Into the Furnace
by InkHarbor
Summary: If Loretta had known everything that he was going to do to her, she never would have even introduced herself to Freddy Krueger. But she did, and in the years that followed, she'd become as much his property as 1428 Elm Street. Hell has a red door. CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND SEXUAL CONTENT.
1. Summertime

**Author's Note** **: There's such a lack of stories about Freddy and Loretta, so I thought I'd try to fill the void a little. Enjoy.  
**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own _A Nightmare on Elm Stre_ et or any of its characters.**

 **WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.  
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* * *

 **Into the Furnace**

 **Chapter One: Summertime  
**

 **1958**

Patches of sunlight filtered down through the tall, rustling trees. Loretta meandered along the sidewalk, in the shade beneath them. The bright green oak leaves, edged in gold, waved back and forth in the breeze.

It was almost summer time. She dwelled on that one thought, and everything it promised. It played through her mind like a movie reel: Sitting at the shoreline of the lake at night, feet splashing in the cool water. Sipping a chilled cola as condensation swelled into droplets down the outside of the glass, over her fingers. Handfuls of popcorn at the drive-in. The heat wafting up from the charcoal grill like a mirage, carrying with it the smell of sizzling hot dogs and shish-kebobs with red pepper. But her favorite always came last. Her hand draped over the steering wheel as she flew down a long, empty road in her car, with the top off and the windows rolled down. It didn't matter where she was going, because she'd never stop. She would just drive on, to the edge of the world.

Of course, she didn't actually _own_ a car.

Adjusting the shoulder strap of her book bag, she tilted her head to study the painted advertisements in the front window of the drug store. She wondered if there was anything she should pick up on her way home from school. But the building faded into the background as she went on to the next establishment, Springwood's Laundromat. What drew her in was the red truck parked at the end of the small lot, beside a Buick. The driver's side door was open, and a pair of legs in trousers hung out. Heavy, black work boots nearly touched the white line painted over the asphalt. She'd seen him before. He was the janitor at the elementary school across from hers. Sometimes, if she ate lunch outside, she'd catch him taking trash bags out to the dumpster around the side of the building. The attention he gave to the children as he went back through the playground was sweet. When one or two of the kids would follow him, bored with their jump ropes or baseballs, he always stopped his work to humor them. He'd bend down, grin, ruffle their hair. She could never hear what he said, but it must have been funny, because it always made them giggle.

Loretta continued down the sidewalk, eyeing him. His arm hung around the back of the seat, with a white pack of Lucky Strikes rolled up in the sleeve of his t-shirt. Smoke curled from the glowing end of the cigarette balancing on his bottom lip, and dissipated above the roof of the truck.

When he caught her gaze, she looked to the other side of the street. She stopped a little ways past him and peered over her shoulder.

He made no effort to hide that he was still watching her.

Turning on her heel, she crossed into the vacant lot and went to where he sat, sideways on the driver's seat.

"Hey." she said, unsure of what compelled her to do this. "Are you going inside?"

His burning cigarette sparked to life as he took one last drag, and crushed it on his heel. He tossed it behind Loretta, onto the pavement.

"Yeah." he replied, voice calm and low.

"The washer in the back left is defective." she said with a grin, "It thinks that pennies are nickels."

His blue eyes twinkled with faint amusement.

"Third one from the corner, with a dent in the top." she went on, then paused. "You went to my school, right?"

He nodded, a slight smile lighting his face as he leaned forward. "My name's Freddy."

Giving a nod of acknowledgment, she walked a few steps backward before turning to find the sidewalk and continue her trip home. She only had a few hours before her shift at the diner started. Hurray.

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Loretta took a slice of key lime pie out of the small glass display case, and slid it over the counter toward an elderly man. He thanked her, hunching over in his seat to dig in. Low, droning music from the radio mixed with the general murmur of Crave Inn Diner's evening crowd. Second and minute hands lagged around the pink face of the wall clock. After she'd passed out a few malt shakes to the little girls waving their mommy's pocket change, she looked back at it. But it had barely ticked past a few minutes. Two teenage boys snickered to each other as they sunk into the swiveling red leather stools beside the old man, who was just finishing his dessert.

"I'll be with you in just a moment." Loretta told the boys.

She went to the tall, silver cash register and popped it open, waiting for the old man. He paid, took his change, and was out through the swinging doors. She sighed, adjusting the apron over her light peach uniform. No tip, again.

The two boys were flagging her down. She took a pencil from behind her ear and went to service them.

"Ready to order?" she asked, pulling a notepad from her pocket.

"Two root beer floats." the one with thick black glasses said.

"What, are we going steady now?" the other, blonde boy teased him, swatting the back of his head. The boy's frames slid down his nose as he blushed deeply. When he was finished humiliating his friend, the blonde looked back to Loretta. "I'll have a coffee, black. And a burger with no onion. Double the pickles."

"Alright." she scribbled out the original order and rewrote it. Turning her back to them, she felt her eyes roll up towards the heavens. Every night was a never-ending parade of customers, each different, with their own particular demands, but all fundamentally the same. One after the other.

She passed the order through the small window to the cook in the back kitchen. He didn't look up as he snatched it from her hand.

One of the other waitresses, Tammy, came up behind her.

"I'm clocking out." Tammy chirped, thankful that it was finally over for her. She froze, giving Loretta a strange look. "Come here, honey."

Tammy reached up to her head. "Your hat's crooked."

She stood there, feeling like a child as the older woman adjusted her little white headpiece. When she was done, she brushed a few strands of light brown hair off Loretta's forehead.

"Hang in there, 'kay?" Tammy said. Then she was gone.

Loretta headed out from behind the counter, toward the two-seater tables lined up under the long window. Her shoes tapped across the black and white checkered tiles as she met the first couple, then the next, and the next. Every seat was filled, and time dragged on.

One vanilla milkshake. Yes ma'am. Steak with a side of potatoes. Onion rings and ketchup. Sir, the ketchup is on the table. And anything for you, sir?

Scribble, scribble.

Smile.

When she made it back to the kitchen window, she had a small stack of orders. The cook looked at her this time, and she found herself fondly remembering when he didn't.

She faced back towards the customers, and stopped. Freddy sat at the counter, elbows propped up, mouth resting on his folded hands. She was sure he didn't see her, so she stared openly, eyes lingering on the lean contour of his forearms.

"Did you step in some quicksand, Loretta?" the manager scolded from her left. She jolted back to life, rushing to the new customers. She was careful not to serve Freddy first. Better not to seem too eager. When a mother and daughter, a police officer, and a young girl had all given her their orders, she finally went to him.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, pencil poised and ready.

"What do you recommend?"

She mentally kicked herself for blanking on not just her personal favorites, but the entire menu. All she could give him was a shrug.

"Only one piece of advice per day, huh?" he teased, chuckling. "I'll have the ham and hash browns."

"Anything to drink?"

"Just water."

She noted it down and tried to leave.

"Hang on." he stopped her mid-turn. An uncomfortable feeling nagged at the back of her mind as she waited under his even gaze. "I didn't get your name. I gave you mine."

She hesitated. "Loretta."

"You saved me twenty cents today, Loretta. Thanks."

Nodding once at him, she left to turn in the order. She selected one of the upside-down glasses from the shelf on the back wall, and filled it at the tap. Then she dropped a red and white striped straw into it, and placed it in front of him.

Again, he didn't let her go.

"Let me take you somewhere when your shift ends."

She blinked at the authoritative undertone in his voice, then shook her head. "It's not over for another half-hour, at least."

Spotting the manager's stern glare, she hurried back to work. She was honestly expecting him to be gone after he finished his meal, but he was still there when she served her last table of the night. His persistence may have even made her blush a little bit, but she wasn't sure. She'd never done it before.

When she started untying her apron, he stood up.

"Ready?" he asked.

Her chin tucked in a quick nod. Why not?

He walked her out of the diner, the bell above the doors making a quiet _ding_ behind them. It was dark, except for the light shining down over the Crave Inn sign. A chorus of cricket chirps filled the night air.

"You want some ice cream?" he offered.

"Um…" she was examining her uniform. "I usually go right home to change. It's kind of weird going out like this."

He smirked at her, and started walking off toward the back of the lot. "Come here." he called.

She trailed behind him all the way to his truck. Pulling open the passenger's door, he bent over the seat and rummaged through his stuff.

"Here," he said, throwing the door shut. He held out a large brown jacket. She put it around herself, slipping her arms through the sleeves. They were a bit too long, and only her fingers peeked out at the bottom. She zipped it up, covering all but the hem of her dress.

Twenty minutes later, Loretta and Freddy were strolling down the sidewalk at a relaxed pace, waffle cones in hand. She prayed that none of the chocolate would smudge on her cheek, as it always seemed to do.

He had meant for them to sit in the ice cream shop for a while, but it reminded her too much of the diner, so she'd asked him to walk her home instead. It was late, anyway. She should have been home over an hour ago.

"So, what happened?" she broke the silence. He was clearly confused, so she continued, "Why did you leave school?"

She instantly regretted bringing it up. It was obvious that he held the entire subject in disdain. When he spoke, his voice was clipped, with a hint of bitterness. "It just didn't work for me. I wanted out."

"I wish I could cut school out of my life." she mused, "And work, and this whole town, too, while we're at it."

"Springwood's not such a bad place." he offered.

She sighed, kicking a tiny rock across the cement. "Yeah, but that's part of the problem. It's not bad, it's not good, it's just _here_. 'A nice place to live', and not do much else."

Before he could reply, if he even had one, something seized her attention, and she shot to a store window like a bottle rocket.

"I'll be right back." she assured him, handing him her half-eaten cone and darting through the doorway. Freddy leaned back to see the sign. "Roger's Books and Records". He watched her through the window, scurrying between the shelves. As she'd said, a minute later she was out, clutching a brown paper bag.

"What'd you get?" he asked.

"Nothing." she answered too quickly.

Well, now he was interested. She dreaded that playful gleam in his eyes.

"I guess you don't want this, then." he brought her cone closer to his mouth with every word, painfully slow.

"Give it back." she reached out for it, but he kept it away, laughing.

"Show me." he insisted.

She gave up the bag, exasperated, and they swapped. The waffle was safe in her grasp once again.

" _This_ is what you bought?"

She cringed as he flipped the cover of the book around so she could see it. In cartoonish, yellow letters, the title read _The Stars My Destination_ , by Alfred Bester. The cover was a painted illustration of a man free-floating through outer space, close to a red planet, with a green one far in the distance.

She snatched it away from him.

"Science fiction. Huh. You don't look like it." he said, amused by the brief flicker of shame on her face. "I would have bought that for you, you know."

"That's why I left you outside." she proclaimed, smirking up at him.

"Oh, yeah." his voice was thick with sarcasm, "That was the reason."

The people and storefronts rolled past them, and soon there were only trees and houses, and dim street lamps. A modest white house with dark blue shutters and a hedge of thorny white roses came up around the corner.

"Here's mine." she tossed her head towards it, relieved, but also sad that the night was over. She began tugging down the zipper of the borrowed jacket, but he stopped her, placing a hand over hers.

"Keep it. So you can hide that uniform anytime you want."

"You sure?"

"I owe you one. Now we're even."

"This jacket's worth more than twenty cents." she said, looking up at him with earnest brown eyes.

"Hmm," he side-glanced like he was contemplating something. "You're right. I guess that means you owe me, now. I'll see you Saturday night, eight o'clock."

He left her at the street corner, beginning the trip back to his truck. All she could think about as she climbed the double step to her front door was how warm that hand was.

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Freddy cranked down the window of his truck, cruising through the vacant streets. His mind went back again and again to her soft hand, so small beneath his own. How easy it would have been to crush it, to make those delicate bones splinter. Only children had ever made him think thoughts like that. Loretta wasn't a child, but she looked like one. She felt like one. His tongue skirted the ridge of his teeth as he pictured her in his clothes. Then in no clothes.

He wanted to take her to his basement, throw her little, naked body to the floor, and ram into her until bits of cement were grated in her back.

He couldn't have a child, but he could have her.

Maybe that would finally be enough.

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"Get back here, right now."

Loretta froze with her hand on her bedroom doorknob, hearing her father's guttural shout from the base of the stairs. Her stomach felt tight and squirming as she went back through the hallway and started down the steps. She stopped as her mother came into the room. Mrs. Johnson stood behind her husband, arms crossed under her chest. Plastic purple curlers were wrapped tight against her shaking head, and her ratty bedroom slipper tapped on the area rug. The look of disdain creeping over Loretta's face was shaken off as Mr. Johnson stomped the floorboards.

"Now." he said.

She reached the bottom, her mother clucking her tongue in disapproval. "Really, Loretta. I don't know what stupid idea's got itself stuck in your little brain, but you need to kick it to the curb." her words came out all in one breath, like they were racing each other to be spoken first, "You better get yourself some common sense, you-"

"Shut the hell up, Janice." her husband snapped. He pointed toward the living room like he were dismissing a dog. "Get out of here. _I'm_ handling this."

Without a sound, she retreated into the dark room. Loretta heard her switch on the television and plop onto the sofa. The springs always creaked a certain way when her mother sat on them. She stared through the archway as a dim blue glow lit the walls deep inside.

"I don't care what you think you're gonna do. You're not. That's it." he stated.

She opened her mouth to speak, but went no further.

"Only an idiot would want to go out with a janitor." he shouted.

"He's not-"

"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'a pathetic high school drop out who cleans up puke for a living', I don't want to hear it. I said no, and that means no. God, Loretta, you think like a two-year-old. You can't have a family with someone who can't take care of you. Do you want to starve to death?"

He glared at her, expecting a response. When she didn't give one, his face contorted with rage. "I swear to God, if you don't answer me, I'm gonna slap you."

"No. I don't." the words felt numb on her tongue.

Her father turned away, motioning toward the stairs.

"Go to bed." he grumbled.

She looked at the wooden railing, watching him disappear into the living room in her blurry peripheral. Mounting the steps one by one, she reached the landing.

A light scratching sound was coming from the bathroom, and she crept to the door to turn the knob. A furry face with two beady brown eyes was on the other side, panting up at her. Its pink tongue was proudly on display.

"Did you fall asleep in the tub again?" she asked, leaning down with hands braced against her knees. Her head cocked to the side, and the puppy copied it. When she headed for her room, it raced after her, its tiny nails clicking across the floor. Tail thrashing eagerly from side to side, it waited by her bed for permission to hop on.

"Come here, Tomato." she patted the spot beside her on the green quilt, then reached into her bag. "Look what I got."

The brown paper was crumpled into a ball and discarded somewhere to the side. She held out her new book. Tomato's nose twitched, ghosting over the cover. When it tried to lick it, she yanked it away.

"Bad boy." she scolded, then pet his head and rose from the mattress. Tomato looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to follow her. He lapped his tongue up over his wet nose and curled down into the blanket. She reached the only window in the small room, just opposite the bed, and pulled the curtain to one side of the rod. A nasty, faded stain vanished between the folds and bunches of the white fabric.

She peered out over the roofs and treetops. A sprinkling of bright stars pierced the night sky. Loretta wished she could be floating through them, up where it's as silent as the deepest part of the ocean. She would drift on endlessly, like the man on her book.

She looked back over her shoulder. "Don't fall asleep, Tomato."

The puppy's eyes snapped open at the sound of her voice. She left the window to sink into her bed, cracking open the book to the first page.

"It's story time. You don't want to miss this, trust me."

Rolling onto her stomach, she propped herself up on her elbows and let her gaze fall to the first paragraph. Excitement kindled in her belly at the start of a new tale. She read to him until both their eyelids grew heavy and slipped shut, and the only sound in the room was gentle, muted breathing.

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Rich, dark coffee poured out from the glass pot, hitting the bottom of the empty mug and filling it to the rim. Billows of thick steam carried the smell up to Loretta's nose. She breathed it in with a sigh. The remainder of the week had gone by slower than an old man in cinder-block shoes, but it was finally Saturday. Not that it mattered- she wasn't sure if she even wanted to go on that date anymore. Things had been tense the past few days. Usually, after her father screamed at her, he would slink back into silence and ignore her for a day or two. When she was little, it always gave her a knot in her gut; it seemed like it was going to last forever. Over the years, it just became normal, like a routine. But this time was different. He had gone about his week, sat at the table for all three meals, walked past her a hundred times, and not once had he spoken a word to her, or even looked her in the eyes so she'd know that he saw her.

The wooden chair slid over the yellow tiles as she pulled it out to take a seat. She tipped the cup to her lips and drank it down black, feeling the bitterness in the back of her throat.

The patter of bedroom slippers came through the kitchen arch, stopping at the fridge behind her. She heard the suctioned seal come apart, followed by the rattle of condiments and salad dressing bottles on the door.

"Want some eggs, Loretta?" her mother pulled out the carton, then went to the stove. She tucked one side of her lavender robe under the other and tied it in the front. "I wish I'd gotten some breakfast sausages when I was at the store yesterday." she said, centering the skillet on a back burner. "Maybe I was just distracted by who I ran into."

"Who'd you run into?" Loretta asked, sitting up.

"Amy Reynolds."

"So?" she shrugged.

Mrs. Johnson put her hands on the table, leaning in. " _So_ , she wasn't shopping. She was stocking shelves."

Loretta's eyes glimmered with mischief, mirroring her mother's. Amy Reynolds went to high school with Loretta's mom. She was filthy rich, and always used to make fun of Janice for having to work as a cashier.

A uncontrolled giggle erupted between them. Mrs. Johnson cracked four eggs in half, and scrambled the yokes. They were still snickering as she poured it into the sizzling pan.

"Everybody gets what's coming to them." she told her daughter, smirking, "Even if it takes twenty years."

When the food was ready, Loretta laid out two ceramic plates, with a fork by each. They shoveled bites out of the fluffy yellow mounds before them. After the meal, Mrs. Johnson took up both empty dishes and brought them to the sink.

"Come wash these up for me, I have to get going."

"Where to?" Loretta asked, rising to her feet.

"I feel like getting some laundry done this morning. And maybe stopping to pick up some breakfast sausages on the way home." she added with a wink.

As Loretta reached the sink and turned on the tap to soak the dish sponge, she heard her mother opening the front door in the other room. Immediately afterwards came the unmistakable click of nails over the wood floor.

"You can't come with me, Tomato." her mother's voice.

There was heavy panting and a few imploring yelps, and the door shut, presumably in the dog's face.

Suds and bubbles covered Loretta's fingers as she scrubbed away at the plate. She rinsed it, front and back, and stuck it into one of the slots in the metal strainer. Adjusting the temperature of the water, she began working on the next one. A small puddle formed at the bottom of the sink. The drain had been acting up a lot lately.

Heavy footsteps came into the kitchen, and she felt her throat get dry.

"Where'd your mother go?" her father asked.

"To the Laundromat." Loretta replied, a peculiar brand of happiness swelling within her at the interaction, however insignificant it was.

He came up beside her to fill a glass with water. "Is this cold?"

"Hold on," she said, twisting off the hot, "there, try it now."

When his cup was filled, he took a sip while surveying the room. He noticed the dirty pan on the stove top, and scoffed. Her shoulders cringed.

"You girls had eggs without me?" his tone was light and playful. She relaxed as she realized he wasn't angry anymore. Spinning around to lean back against the sink, she smiled at him.

"If you'd gotten up earlier, we would have made you a plate, Rip Van Winkle."

"You _little fork-tongued snake_." he laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. He tucked her head under his chin. A comfortable warmth spread out within her. She hadn't noticed that she was holding on to him tighter than he was holding her until he tried to get back to the cabinets. She let go and finished the dishes, squeezing out the sponge and leaving it on the counter.

All the way back to her room, with Tomato at her heels, she tried to sort through her thoughts. She was glad that things were better at home again, but how long would it last this time? A week? Maybe two? She knew it wouldn't be long. That was the worst part; it seemed that when her life was finally at some level of peacefulness, she only worried about when it would go bad again. Those bad days were the only times she could rest her mind, because at least then the horrible anticipation was over.

And now there was Freddy. The idea darted through her mind that her parents could be right about him.

But she shook her head.

No.

If she'd never met him, they would have found something else to be upset about. Besides, she was fifteen- plenty old enough to be making her own decisions about who she goes out with. Freddy wasn't the problem. It only seemed like a big deal now, but they'd get over it. If she chooses to be with him, they'll have to accept it. They might even come to like him.

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Loretta closed the front door behind her, and stepped onto the lawn. The humid night had left dew drops clinging to the blades of grass that wet her black shoes. She glanced back through a window at her mother. The fretful woman was still pacing back and forth in front of the dining room table, dreading the return of her husband.

Freddy looked his date once over from his truck as she approached him, her fingertips playing with the top button on her light blue dress. She opened the passenger's door and climbed inside, tugging down the hem of her dress as she settled into her seat. It was her favorite, but she'd outgrown it. No matter how much she pulled, it barely reached her knees. She gave up.

"You didn't tell me what we're doing tonight." she said.

"That's because it's a surprise." he shot back as a mischievous smirk spread across his face.

"Oh, not one of _those_." she teased.

She didn't have to wait long to find out what it was. In less than ten minutes, their vehicle pulled onto a dusty drive way with a small white booth on the left. The skinny young man inside sat to attention as Freddy's window glided down.

"How many?" the attendant asked, trying to be discrete as he peered into the truck.

"Two." Freddy said. He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and found his wallet. The worn leather unfolded and opened up to reveal a thin layer of green bills. He passed one to the man, who nodded and waved them forward.

The truck rumbled past dozens of cars, all lined up in neat rows except for a crooked, yellow Thunderbird. At the front of the lot, cartoon popcorn buckets, sodas, and milkshakes danced on the huge, bright screen.

She felt a pang of disappointment. Of course he would take her to see some boring romance at the drive-in. All the boys did it. As much as she liked Freddy, she was trying her best not to roll her eyes. That was, until the advertisements ended and the projector rolled the title screen. Her head perked up as _Invaders from Mars_ glowed against the white backdrop.

When she looked back to Freddy, he was staring at her with a smug grin. "Surprise." he said.

It started before she had a chance to reply, and her eyes locked onto the screen. There they remained, with absolutely no regard for anything else around her. Including Freddy.

He tried to watch the movie too, but after a few minutes he started to get restless. He glanced through a windshield behind them, into one of the other cars. A teenaged couple was necking like a pair of wild animals. The same thing was going on to their right, their left, in front of them, and everywhere else he looked. Hell, they were the only ones there actually _watching_ the movie. Even the attendant was probably attending to himself. He felt a twinge of annoyance.

Settling back into his seat, he stretched his arm out and tried to drape it over her shoulders. But just as he did, she leaned forward and placed her hands on the dashboard. Her face was absorbed in the scene before her, lips parted in awe. His arm hung, suspended in air, before dropping back to his side. He vaguely noticed that something exciting was happening in the movie as he watched Loretta draw her curled fists up to her mouth.

He wondered what she would do if he got off his seat and walked away. Probably nothing.

In the darkness of the truck cabin, he let his gaze roam over her. Her soft brown hair was pulled back on one side and fastened with a simple, white clip. The modest tresses came down to her shoulders, resting weightless like a feather on the smooth nape of her neck. As his eyes wandered farther down, his thoughts turned as dark as the shadows around them.

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Freddy turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot, filing in line with the other cars to exit the theater.

"That was really fun." Loretta said with a sweet smile.

"Glad you liked it." he lied. Well, it wasn't entirely untrue; he just wished she hadn't liked it _that_ much.

The truck picked up speed when they got to the road. Other vehicles flew past them, turning off onto different streets, and eventually they were alone. Thick woods loomed to their right, fenced off by slim telephone poles. Heavy wires sagged between them.

Loretta thought she heard something, and looked to Freddy. His mouth was moving as if he were saying something, but no sound came out. It almost looked like he was arguing with someone. As suddenly as it began, it stopped. She shot her gaze out the window and pretended that she hadn't seen anything strange.

And she hadn't, she reasoned. Lots of people talked to themselves.

Her brow knotted as the truck veered off onto the grass, close to the tree line. Freddy shut the engine off. Without hesitation, he reached over to comb his fingers through her hair, leaving a hand on the back of her head. She didn't so much as blink when he leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth. He gave a small tug on her hair, tipping her face up, and crushed his lips down sideways onto hers. She made a startled sound at first, but eventually her arms found their way around his neck as their bodies pressed closer together. His deft fingers worked open the top buttons of her dress, exposing her plain white brassiere. He yanked one of the blue short sleeves down off her shoulder, then scooped her up to pull her onto his lap. One of her shoes came off, falling to the floor of the truck. He kissed her jaw line and throat, enjoying the tiny sounds she let out when he nipped at her soft skin.

Something stirred within him. He grabbed her knee and slid his fingers up along her inner thigh. Her dress bunched into layers as he pushed it higher. His hand dropped to his belt buckle and ripped open the leather straps as he devoured the flesh below her collar bone. She panted into his hair. Urged on by the accelerated pounding in her chest, he unzipped his fly, then hooked two fingers into the top of her cotton panties. As one side began to slide down over her slender hip, her entire body tensed.

She seized his wrist.

It took a few seconds for him to calm down, but he let her go. She scrambled back onto her seat and adjusted her clothes.

"I'm sorry." she finally spoke when he started the engine. She thought she saw him sneer for just a second, but in the dark it was impossible to tell.

"Don't worry about it." was the last thing he said the whole ride home.

The red truck pulled close to the curb in front of her house. As she reached for the handle to open her door, he grabbed her arm. She looked back to see him grinning at her.

"You shouldn't run away so fast." he pleaded, his usual charm restored. "I didn't even say goodnight yet."

She couldn't fight back a smile of her own as he stole a kiss on her cheek.

"Goodnight." he murmured.

A light wind hushed over them as she opened her door. "Goodnight, Freddy."

She listened to the engine fade off down the street, and walked back across the grass.

Inside the house, all the lights were off except in the back room where her parents sat. They always watched television in there, but it wasn't on tonight.

Not a single sound came from anywhere. The smile faded from her face. Her spirits began to sink until they were lower than the dirt as she realized what was going on. Sickening, squirming worms knotted in her gut. She thought it was over, but she was wrong.

That familiar silence was back, hanging thick like a dark curtain on her home again.

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 **Author's note** **: The next chapter will be up in a week. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review. They help me write faster.  
**

 **FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: I don't own _The Stars My Destination,_ or _Invaders from Mars,_ or Lucky Strikes cigarettes.  
**


	2. New Habits

**A/N: Here's the new chapter, as promised. Enjoy.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street or any of its characters.**

 **WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: New Habits  
**

 **1959**

The light chains rattled as Loretta grabbed onto them and sat on the swing. She kicked off the oval patch of dirt below, and glided forward. Free of any clips or ties, her hair trailed behind her, then blew around her face as she swung backwards. She looked out over the schoolyard with half-lidded eyes.

Clusters of teenagers chatted and laughed with each other. Her gaze lifted above them, above the school, and up to the grey, overcast sky.

Summer had come and gone, never being what she'd hoped for. The time spent with Freddy was the only good part; the rest was torture. Her mother and father hadn't said more than five words to her in almost a year. In her home, she didn't exist anymore. When she'd walk into a room they were in, she could see their jaws tighten and their backs stiffen. They wouldn't stop their conversation if they were having one, but the exchanges would be short and clipped. No chance for her to join in.

She wanted so badly for them to just scream at her and beat her and be done with it. But that wasn't possible. Beating someone would require you to acknowledge that they're alive.

But thinking about them only wore her down, so she let her thoughts circle back to her favorite daydream. Except recently, she didn't see only herself in the speeding car. Freddy was there, too, sitting beside her with his elbow hanging out the window. She'd never known where she was going as she flew down that empty road, but Freddy did. She could see it in the way he stared through the windshield.

She snapped back to reality at the sound of a dumpster lid slamming shut. Across the street, Freddy dusted his hands off as he walked along the side of the elementary school. The swing was left twisting and recoiling behind her as she dashed through the yard, between a few cruising automobiles on the road, and straight to the high, chain link fence that surrounded the back and sides of the building.

"Freddy." she called, fingers looping into the wide metal links. One step away from rounding the bend and disappearing, he stopped to look over his shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he approached the other side of the fence.

"Just saying hi."

For a second, she thought that he was going to put his hand on hers, but he only stood there, arms at his sides. "Am I gonna get you in trouble?" she asked.

"Probably." he replied with a shrug.

"Sorry. I better go." she waved her fingers through the fence and stepped back. All she'd wanted was to be near him for a minute or two. "Didn't mean to interrupt your work."

"Wait a minute, Loretta. You didn't walk all the way over here and waste my time for nothing." he stared her down. "What's wrong?"

She didn't respond, and he sighed. "Not telling me anything is just like lying to me. You know I hate that, so out with it. Is it your folks?"

"I shouldn't have bothered you." she said.

"Damn it, Loretta. Answer my question." in contrast to the harsh words, his voice was calm. "It is, isn't it?"

She gave a slight nod. A smirk threatened to stretch across his face, but he quickly suppressed it. The more her parents pushed her away, the more she needed him. He liked being the only thing in her life worth anything.

"I told you to forget about them." he said.

"Class is starting," she heard the bell ringing out.

" _Loretta_." he looked at her, pretending to be worried. "Are you gonna be okay?"

It was her turn to shrug. "I still have my dog."

She turned and began walking back to the high school. Freddy's inward smirk faded fast.

 _I still have you, Freddy_.

That's what she should have said.

The left side of his jaw clenched as he followed her with his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxx

 _One week later…_

The cigarette bent and split against the rough tree trunk. It was just past eleven o'clock, and Freddy was starting to get a little impatient.

Where the fuck was it? What was taking so long? He had to remind himself to relax. He'd waited days for this, and a few more minutes or even hours wouldn't kill him. Peering around the tree, he dug into his pocket for a new smoke. Loretta's house used to look a lot nicer, he noticed. Over the last few months, it had fallen into a state of disrepair. Especially those rose bushes. Weeds had shot up and choked the once-vibrant flowers. The second bush from the end of the row was completely dead and brittle.

He hunched over his lighter, about to flick it on, when the front door opened a crack. A tiny dog with thick brown fur squeezed through, darting down the steps and off to the bushes. The door clicked shut.

Its tongue flopped out the side of its opened mouth as it panted, lifting a leg. A thin, steady stream of liquid splashed onto the dirt.

There it was. That fucking Tomato.

He glanced at the windows. All of the curtains were down except on two of them, but no one was watching. Stepping out from behind the tree, Freddy crossed the untrimmed lawn. He moved with caution, creeping up on the distracted animal. Its black nose twitched as it finished peeing, and it turned to him. A rumbling growl began deep in its throat as it took a wide, aggressive stance.

Freddy slipped a piece of bacon out of his pocket, waving it low to the ground.

"Come here, Tomato." he whispered.

Its ears perked with interest. Unsure of what to do, Tomato lifted and lowered his front paws, prancing in place like an excited reindeer. Finally, it trotted forward, licking its snout. When it lunged for the bacon, Freddy grabbed it around the waist and hauled it up. He snickered at it, making sure it saw the tasty morsel of bacon crunch between his teeth.

It snapped at his wrist as he walked around to the side of the house, into thick shadows. He swung the back of his fist down into its face, relishing in the pained whimper that followed. He stooped down and pushed Tomato into the grass with one arm. Its legs kicked, but it was too small to overpower Freddy. He punched it again, staining two of his knuckles in its blood.

After pulling his folding knife out from beneath his belt, he flicked it open. The thin blade gleamed, catching the dim street light as he turned it over and over in his hand. The tip of the blade pushed into its back, as Freddy sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The wet, sloppy scraping of metal on bone ended with a crunch, and Tomato's thrashing legs went limp.

He smiled to himself, satisfied that its spine was now severed. Frothy drool puddled around its mouth, front paws still clawing at the ground in vain. He pulled a bundle of thin cord from his pocket, and put a slip knot around the puppy's neck.

Now it was time for some fun.

xxxxxxxxxx

Loretta glanced up from her book. There should have been pawing at the door by now. It never took Tomato this long to go. She let the cover of the novel fall shut, and pushed herself up off the red wingchair. Opening the door, she stuck her head out and scoured the yard for any sign of her dog.

"Tomato," she called out as she patted her leg. There was no response.

She tugged on her slippers that were lined up with the other shoes and boots against the wall, and went out on the top step. She walked straight to the bushes, bending over them to see if he was hiding underneath. Her hair fell forward, parting on the back of her neck. Tucking one side behind her ear, she stood upright and spun around to scan the rest of their patchy lawn.

"Tomato?" she said again, a little louder. She turned to the house. The moonlight shone over the front, with the yard behind it receding into hazy darkness. Placing a hand on the exterior of the house, she took a few cautious steps forward. She called him several more times, wandering farther into the backyard. A sweeping wind shook the tree branches over her head. She looked up into the sycamore in front of her. Something small and still was up on one of the branches. As the tree shook more roughly, two wide, dark masses spread out from the form's sides, and it swooped down above Loretta. She flinched back, crouching slightly. It went behind her and landed on the ground with a heavy thud. She kept her distance, examining it closely. It looked like a large bird with a long, featherless neck. The bend of its folded wings stuck up, like hunched shoulders. It was bobbing its bald head up and down, pecking at something beneath it. She faintly made out what looked like tufts of fur poking up from between its talons.

As she approached it, it reeled back, flying away with a pounding of its wings against the air. Loretta didn't see where it went; her gazed was locked on the mangled fury mound at her feet. The entire back of the animal had been ripped open, with the flesh gone on both sides of its spine. The white, blood-smeared vertebrae stuck out like a chain of mountain peaks.

She gagged, doubling over. A bit of hot saliva dripped out of her mouth, splattering Tomato's remains.

xxxxxxxxxx

Loretta lay flat on her bed covers, arms lifeless at her sides. She stared up at the ceiling. Her newest book was on the floor in the corner of her room. The hard, green cover had bent on impact with the wall about an hour ago. She couldn't read it because there was no one to read to.

Eventually, she rolled onto her side. Her cheek rested on the bed, eyes nearly closing. It was only eight o'clock, but she couldn't wait to fall asleep. It felt like all she'd done with her free time the past two weeks was sleep. If she was conscious, then she wouldn't be able to stop what she'd seen that night from replaying in her mind. Before her lashes settled closed, she saw a short, needle-thin brown dog hair sticking out of the blanket, right where he used to curl up.

She jumped out of the bed.

After rushing through her door and down the stairs, she slipped on her black shoes and left the house.

xxxxxxxxxx

The double doors of Springwood elementary swung shut behind Loretta as she paced through the halls. The whole building seemed empty, but she pressed on in desperation. He had to still be here.

Her steps grew faster and farther apart, as she flew past lockers and closed doors with dark windows. She was nearly running when she turned a corner and saw him. His back was facing her, head hanging low as he lazily pushed a mop back and forth over the smooth grey tiles just outside a classroom. The bucket was against the door, half-full of murky water.

Hearing the commotion behind him, Freddy turned around. His hand was draped over the end of the mop stick, as he leaned his weight on it like a crutch.

"Hey." he said, not seeming particularly surprised. He was getting used to her popping in at the strangest places and times.

She walked straight up to him without missing a beat, and threw her arms around his neck. Stretching forward on the tips of her toes, she pressed her lips onto his.

The mop fell back on the wall and slid to the floor.

She broke the kiss and murmured something into his ear.

Gripping her forearm, he led her down the adjacent corridor. Her feet could barely keep up with him. He stopped by an unmarked, wooden door, and took his ring of keys off his belt. After fitting a small metal one into the lock, he pushed the door open and yanked Loretta inside.

She watched him close it and turn the interior lock vertical. Was this what she wanted? As he came closer, blocking out the dim ceiling light, she tried to shake off the sudden sense of fear that overtook her. She reasoned to herself that it was just nervousness; everyone was nervous the first time. But she had to do this. If she didn't, he would get bored with her and find someone else. Then she'd have no one.

He put an arm around her back, pulling her up against him, and began slipping her front buttons loose one by one, from her collar to her chest. He pulled the dress down off her shoulders, devouring the side of her neck.

He reached to the back of one of her thighs, and scooped her up off the ground. After lowering himself to his knees, he laid her down in front of him. It wasn't his basement floor, he thought, but it would do.

His eyes wandered over her bare skin, lingering on her modest undergarments. Instinctively, she drew her arms in and curled her hands over her chest. He shot her a scolding look and seized her wrists.

"You wanted this, right?" he asked, leaning in towards her face.

She gave a timid nod, and he forced the backs of her hands down onto the floor, just above her head.

"Then stay still."

Grasping the center of her plain cotton brassiere, he pushed it up to her throat. She felt hands on her, then lips and teeth. The tiles were hard and uncomfortable on her shoulder blades.

Freddy tugged her arms out of her short sleeves and slid the soft, creamy-white dress off her body, tossing it into the corner of the tiny space. It landed in a wrinkled heap against a rusted, sparsely stocked supply shelf.

Straddling her slender hips, he ripped open his belt buckle and fly. Her panties rolled over themselves as he dragged them to her knees, then raised her legs up to her chest to get the underwear past her foot. It dangled from one ankle, but he didn't bother with that. Holding her thigh back, he reached into his boxers with his other hand and pulled himself out.

He pushed into her to the hilt as he came down on his forearms. Her expression contorted with pain, teeth grinding. His pace picked up in mere seconds, giving her no time to adjust. Her hands searched for something to grab onto. She found nothing within reach, and closed her fingers into her palms.

Clutching her jaw, he turned her head to the left and lowered his mouth to her throat. A curtain of brown hair spread over the side of her face. She reached up to grip his shoulders as he slammed her harder. The initial, tearing sensation was beginning to dull, replaced by a mounting friction. She brought the knuckles of one hand to her teeth, biting down with apprehension.

Freddy's eyes took on an empty, predatory glaze as he pounded a cry out of her.

When he was finally finished, he sat back on his haunches to fix his fly, leaving her panting on the floor. A sheen of sweat reflected off her smooth stomach. She sat up a moment later, hooking on her bra and adjusting the straps on her shoulders. For the first time, she noticed how small and cramped the closet really was. On the lowest level of the shelf opposite her, were a cluster of dust-laden plastic bottles filled with different colored cleaning solutions. A stained rag with a patch stitched onto it was tented over the two tallest ones near the back. The floor wasn't very clean, either. While she stepped into her dress and began buttoning it back up, she found herself wishing that he'd taken her to his home, instead. Or anywhere, rather than this place.

But it was already over, and he was already turning the knob.

"I have some more work to do." he said, waiting for her to step out into the hall before closing the door.

"You have to go?"

"I have to." he said, sensing the need in her voice. He owned her now.

"Okay." she replied with a hint of disappointment, which he either didn't notice or didn't care about. He planted a quick kiss on her forehead and started back down the corridor.

She stood there, maybe expecting him to come back. But he never did, and after a while she went home.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **1960**

Freddy stooped to the ground beside a lunch table in the bustling cafeteria. A few kids rushed around him, but most were sitting and eating. And _talking_. The continuous hum of chatter filled the room.

With a thick, yellow cloth in hand, he began wiping up the fresh splatter of peas and carrots, and something else that he couldn't identify. The new semester at Springwood Elementary had dragged in a whole new batch of brats that still didn't know how to fucking eat without making a mess. Shit like this never used to irritate him so much, but in the last few months he'd been feeling increasingly frustrated, and he didn't know why. Loretta let him have sex with her whenever he wanted, but it just didn't give him the same mental relief that it used to. That first time had been the best by far, with her body so pliable beneath him, and that delicious, pained expression on her face. Nothing could compare with the power rush he'd gotten when he tore through her.

He'd made her a woman, and there was no way to turn her back into a girl.

In the corner of his eye, the hems of pretty little dresses flitted past him. He shook the rag out into the plastic bucket and continued wiping at the floor. Reaching back to drop in another handful of mush, he hit the rim, and the bucket toppled to its side. It rolled in a half circle, letting out most of its contents. Freddy's groan was interrupted by an unrestrained chorus of snickers from behind him. He craned his neck, and saw a group of children sitting at a table, bursting with laughter. As soon as he made eye contact, they all looked away. Their mouths tightened into smirks, and their faces flushed as they tried not to let out a single giggle.

Freddy made quick work of the clean up, hurling the food into the bucket and rising to his feet. Those kids didn't intimidate him, but they reminded him of when he was a student there. It brought him back, and he didn't like it.

At the far end of the cafeteria, he elbowed the door open and left the room. It swung shut, sealing him off from the cacophony of chit-chat and clattering food trays.

He started down the corridor, the bucket swaying by his knees. As he approached the turn into the next hall, his footsteps were matched by a quick patter rushing up beside him. A small girl with wide, worried eyes cut him off. Her shiny brunette hair, tied back into a ponytail, bounced behind her head as she came to a full stop.

"Mr. Krueger?" she began, shifting her feet, "My name's Ann, and, um…"

He waited for her to continue, eyeing her petite fingers as she fiddled with them. She couldn't be more than seven years old. How did she even get out here?

When she finally broke the span of silence, her voice was high and pleading. "I'm really, _really_ sorry for laughing at you. It was mean."

He raised an eyebrow, somewhat taken aback by her apology.

"My mommy told me that picking on people is just as bad as hitting them." she explained, "I didn't mean to do it; it just happened. And mommy says that when you hurt somebody, you have to make it up to them. So, how can I do that?"

Her last few words peaked his attention.

"You want to make it up to me?" he asked, tilting his head to the side to show that he was thinking. His index finger tapped his bottom lip. "Hmmm…Well, I still have to mop the dirty floor in there, and I need quite a few bottles of cleaner to get the job done. You can help me carry them back."

"Am I allowed to go? I wont get in trouble with my teachers?"

"Oh, _no_. Not if you're helping an adult. My helpers can go anywhere I go." he assured her, extending his free hand with a smile.

She took it without hesitation, and they disappeared around the corner. In less than a minute, they arrived at a familiar closed door. It was unmarked, the same one he'd led Loretta to. He wasn't sure why he'd taken her to this exact one, and not one of the other half-dozen closets that got less foot traffic past them. He felt drawn to it, lured in by the chance to relive a perfect memory.

The door creaked open, and Freddy ushered the child in before him. She crouched to see the bottles, most half-filled or less, containing an assortment of brightly colored liquids. They sloshed within the plastic containers when she lifted them out.

"Do you need these ones?" she asked, cradling them in both arms.

"Yeah," he said, still facing the door, "but I want to show you something first."

Before she could process what was happening, he'd moved behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her backwards onto his lap, vaguely aware that she was talking to him.

 _What are you doing?_

 _Why are we sitting on the floor, Mr. Krueger?_

Her words were lost among the thoughts in his head, screaming for him to touch her hair, touch her legs, touch _more_.

His hand disappeared under her dress, and that was when he heard her.

"That hurts! Stop it!" she wailed, struggling against his arm. She grabbed it with both of her tiny hands, trying to force it off her, but was unable to budge it.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up, you little bitch." he snarled into the side of her face.

Her body shuddered as she began sobbing. He could smell the sweat under her hair and on the back of her neck, the fear seeping through her skin. Loose brown strands stuck to her forehead, her frazzled ponytail sagging off to one side with all her thrashing.

He lifted his hand up, examining it. The middle finger was coated in diluted blood to the last knuckle. He smirked, throwing her face-down onto the floor and unzipping his fly. She rolled over to stare straight up at him as he displayed himself.

"Relax, or it's going to hurt a lot more than these." he warned, wiggling his fingers.

She squeezed her eyes shut, crying out as loudly as she could. He crawled forward to clamp a hand over her mouth. Digging her puny fingernails into his wrist, she tilted her head back far enough to slip her top row of teeth free. They gnashed on the webbing in between his thumb and index finger, drawing a crescent of blood. He growled, recoiling from her. Right before she started yelling again, he brought his entire weight down on her throat with one arm, crushing her windpipe. She choked out something barely audible, then went silent. Her eyes darted around, from Freddy, to the ceiling and walls, searching for anything to help her. Her mouth was wide open, but took in no breath.

Freddy was surprised at himself. He'd wanted to fuck her, not strangle her, and yet feeling the panic building within her the longer she went without air was one of the most gratifying experiences he'd ever had. And when she fell still, head rolling to the right, he found that he no longer needed to fuck anything. He would, however, need to wipe that semen off the floor after getting rid of the body. He traced a single finger on her discolored neck, then got up and dusted himself off.

He was pretty sure he kept a roll of trash bags in here, somewhere.

xxxxxxxxxx

Plopping down on a creaky stool, Freddy raked his fingers through his hair. He knew he should have waited longer than just a few weeks to do this again. That little brunette whore in the school's dumpster had barely started to rot, and already he was looking down at the next one. She had red hair and freckles, and when he'd seen her in the playground that morning, he thought of how much he'd love to carve out each and every one of them.

Her body, naked except for a pair of yellow polka-dot panties, began to stir. She could barely move on the dirty cement floor, with deep purple bruises blooming on her arms and thighs. He was certain that her right knee was broken, too.

One of the advantages of bringing her to his home, was that he could take his time with everything. And he had. With all his kitchen knives and strait-razors at his disposal, he made sure to give the pint-sized slut one hell of a going away party.

He stood up, sauntering to his work table to select a new toy. A shiny, eight-inch silver razor caught his eye, and he picked it out. The weight of it felt appropriate for the job.

"I wish we could play some more, sweetheart," he sighed, crouching beside her, "but Uncle Freddy's having company tonight. I have to go get ready."

She whimpered, and put up her hands in defense, cringing away. He slashed the blade diagonally across her bare stomach. She clutched at the wound, and he swung the weapon down again, over the dimples in her pudgy hands. With no energy left to cry or beg, all she could do was lie there and suck in her last, ragged breath, before he put an end to her.

His nose wrinkled in disgust as a strong stench emanated from the child.

"Hey, hey! Knock that off, bitch." he shouted at the corpse, kicking her in the side. He didn't need his house smelling like piss and shit. Especially not tonight.

Thick, black blood flowed down her sides, forming two dark puddles that reflected a sliver of light at the edges. He just remembered that he hadn't asked her for her name. Whatever. It would be in the papers soon.

After wrapping up the body, he hauled it over one shoulder and carried it out to his truck. He folded her into the foot space in front of the passenger's seat and slammed the door shut. If he hurried, he could dump her off in the forest, run back home for a quick shower, and still pick up Loretta on time.

xxxxxxxxxx

The sun had just sunk past the tree line, leaving a haze of orange that filtered up into the dark blue sky. A handful of stars flickered high above, as the truck rolled into the driveway at 1428 Elm.

Loretta followed behind Freddy, and they climbed the double step to get inside the house. It was a bit tidier than usual, she noted. Only a few pieces of unwashed clothing were strewn over the worn green couch in the living room. All the times she'd been here before, there had always been a high pile. Freddy had a distaste for doing laundry, and if she let him, he'd wear the same shirt every day, forever.

He left to get drinks out of the fridge, while she looked over the room. And honestly, there wasn't much to look at. The furniture he had was old, probably garbage picked twelve generations ago. The wooden end tables had layers of scuffs and scratches, made more noticeable by the absence of any decorations to cover them. Not even a framed photo. In fact, now that she thought about it, she didn't remember ever seeing a single picture anywhere in his home. But that was okay; she knew he didn't have any family, except his foster father, and the way he spoke about the man made it clear that he didn't want "that bastard's" face displayed on the walls.

She heard a pop of static behind her, but before she could turn, she felt Freddy against her back. His arms slipped around her waist, wrapping her up. He started to sway to the upbeat rhythm of the song on the radio. She laughed as he spun her towards him and clasped his hand over hers. A youthful voice sounded from the fuzzy speakers.

 _Every night, I hope and pray_

 _A dream lover will come my way,_

 _A girl to hold in my arms,_

 _And know the magic of her charms_

He pulled her into the center of the room, and placed his other hand on the small of her back, rocking them from side to side. She fell backwards into a surprise dip with a gasp.

 _Because I want a girl_

 _To call my own_

 _I want a dream lover,_

 _So I don't have to dream alone._

She beamed up at him. The carefully clipped back tresses she'd worked on were disheveled now, but she didn't care. A few stray strands dangled over her flushed cheeks, blowing to the side when he twirled her again. Her light, cotton dress fanned around her legs.

She wondered what had put him in such a good mood. Since asking ran the risk of spoiling it, she decided to keep her observations to herself. This was too much fun.

They were both panting when the song faded out at the end, and they moved to the couch. It creaked as Freddy fell back onto one of the cushions. Loretta sat beside him.

"Where are those drinks?" she asked, smirking.

A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes, one she hadn't seen since they'd first started going out. She mentally smacked herself at the thought. Nostalgia was meant for old ladies in rocking chairs.

"Well, I have a confession to make." he teased, "but you have to promise you won't think less of me."

"You have my word, sir." she decided to play along.

"I didn't get any booze." he said, clearly enjoying her puzzled expression.

She shoved his chest in mock offense, "And why not?"

"Because I was busy getting something else."

She waited for him to explain. Instead, he slipped his fingers into his back pocket, taking out a small, gold ring.

"I want you to be my wife."

The last traces of playfulness vanished from her face. She didn't even have to think about it.

"Okay. I mean, yes." she exhaled, mirroring his wide grin, "Yes."

He lifted her onto his lap, and their lips joined as if the ceremony were taking place right there on the couch.

"Aren't you going to put it on?" she asked, holding up her left hand.

"Right."

He scratched the back of his head, and took her fingers, slipping the simple band onto the one beside her pinky. That part was supposed to come before the kiss, he thought. Damn.

It didn't look like she cared, at least. While he was getting up, she admired her new jewelry from multiple angles.

"Freddy," she said as she rose to her feet, throwing her arms around him, "thank you so much. It's beautiful."

The piece of trash hadn't been anywhere near expensive; it was copper with gold plating. He had to smile at how easy she was to please. He bet he could have given her a rubber band, and she would have been just as enamored with it.

She rested her cheek on his chest, and fell in with the laid back melody coming from the speakers.

 _Put your head on my shoulder_

 _Hold me in your arms,_

 _Baby,_

 _Squeeze me oh so tight._

 _Show me_

 _That you love me too._

He cupped the back of her head, stroking his thumb over her soft hair.

 _Put your lips next to mine, dear_

 _Won't you kiss me once,_

 _Baby,_

 _Just a kiss goodnight?_

 _Maybe_

 _You and I will fall in love._

With her arms draped on the back of his neck, Loretta nestled into his t-shirt. The music filled the house and drifted through the screened window, into the cool night air. Their slow, subtle movements were framed by the painted shutters. A group of children coming down the sidewalk giggled and made faces at each other as they stopped for a moment to mock the couple. In a few months, though, there would be no children out this late. Not after the third one goes missing, and the people of Springwood begin to realize that they're dealing not with coincidence, but malevolence.

* * *

 **A/N: Chapter 3 will be posted one week from now, on Thursday, May 21.**

 **I laughed so hard re-reading the end of this chapter. In two consecutive scenes, Freddy tortures and murders little girls, and I didn't even think twice about it. No big deal. But when he proposed to Loretta with a cheap-ass ring, I was like, "YOU BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU?"**

 **Unfortunately for Loretta, however, a fake engagement ring is only the beginning of her problems. I've got quite a few surprises in store for her (and you). Stay tuned, folks.**

 **And RIP Tomato.**

 **FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: The songs used are "Dream Lover" by Bobby Darin, and "Put Your Head on My Shoulder" by Paul Anka. I own neither of these songs.**


	3. Mama

**A/N: Some of you may have noticed that I changed this story's summary. The original one was really just a place holder until I could think up a better one. And I'd like to thank my one reviewer so far, Darkness Takes Over, for all her encouragement! She has some great stories, so check her out if you get a chance.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ or any of its characters.**

 **WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Mama  
**

Loretta wet the sticky edge of the envelope and sealed it, tossing it into the stack. She wasn't going to have a big wedding, just family would be there. Most of her relatives lived in Ohio, so it shouldn't take long for them to get their invitations. She'd be standing at the altar in two weeks if everything went the way she wanted. Planning on such short notice was stressful, but Freddy didn't want to wait. There wasn't much to prepare for the simple ceremony. She had everything she needed. Everything except a dress.

The though made her stomach clench, and she let her forehead fall onto the oak desk. She didn't have the money for a new one, but she didn't want a new one, anyway. The image in her mind that had been clear since she was a little girl, was of her walking down the isle in her mother's wedding gown.

The only problem was that her parents didn't even know she was engaged yet. She hadn't had the guts to tell them the night she came home after Freddy proposed. But there was no way around it; they had to know. Once they realized that her mind was made up, they'd accept it, and everything could be normal again.

With clammy palms, she wrote out their invitation in her neatest penmanship. She licked and smoothed it shut like the others, but didn't put it in the mailing pile. Those were going to the post office first thing tomorrow morning. She tucked the thick, square envelope into her skirt pocket.

She had the late shift at the diner tonight, and it would be so easy to put off facing them until another day, but they were both downstairs in the family room watching television. It had to be now, or she'd psych herself out.

The steps creaked under her as she went down, hand sticking on the banister. At the bottom, she caught the sound of a commercial jingle. The snappy notes rang out, and she knew she should go in before their show came back on. She moved closer to the room, legs rigid with hesitation. A yard or two from the threshold, she heard an episode of The Three Stooges blare from within.

Her first instinct was to walk out the front door. The commercial was over. Her chance had passed.

But she didn't let herself take the easy route. She went on into the room and straight to the sofa, and as expected, they didn't even blink.

"I have some good news." she began, swallowing thick with a forced smile. The tips of her fingers felt tingly and cold. She was overly aware of them, not knowing whether to clasp them together, or hide them under crossed arms, or slip them behind her back. Instead, they hung at her sides like awkward growths.

"Freddy proposed to me, and we're getting married."

The words fell flat, despite her attempt to make them sound joyful. An acute tightness squeezed inside her chest. They weren't looking at her. Hoping to seize their attention, she moved in front of the television.

"I know you don't think he can support me, but he makes decent money, and I have my job at the diner. We'll be okay, I promise." she insisted.

Her father tilted his head a little to see around her, as the studio audience roared with laughter off screen.

"We reserved a date with the church. And dad, you don't have to walk me down the isle if you don't want to." she pleaded, then looked to her mother. "All I need is a dress. Could I use yours? I'd only be borrowing it, you can have it right back."

It didn't matter how long she waited. No answer came. The muscles in her throat began to constrict, cracking her voice. "Please look at me."

But it was like they'd locked themselves in a soundproof glass box. She took the envelope with _Mom and Dad_ scrawled on the front, and left it on the coffee table in case they changed their minds. She thought she saw tears on the rims of her mother's eyes, but it was probably her imagination.

A drizzle of rain misted Loretta's face as she left the house. Tiny droplets clung to her hair. With a defeated slouch, she shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets, and continued up the sidewalk. Heavy, grey cumulus clouds churned in the sky, threatening to release on everything below.

xxxxxxxxxx

The metal joint-hinge squeaked as Freddy bent and straightened one finger. Thin plates were riveted between his knuckles, with a skeleton of steel ringed around the underside, connecting back to the top. His right hand was encased in the makeshift armor that had been affixed to a broken-in work glove. From the tips of each finger, extended four straight, long razors, their ends tapered to a point. He hunched over it, flexing and splaying, getting a feel for the claw's weight.

The light above his work table cast bold shadows, and every movement of his hand was silhouetted beneath it on the rough, dusty surface. The doubles met as he stabbed his index blade into the wood grain.

The bench he sat on scraped backwards on the cement floor. He stood, posture slanted from the dip in his right shoulder, and moved across the room. But there was more in his walk than just a shift in weight; slipping on that glove had infused his body with a new, animalistic confidence. He stalked towards the back wall, lowering his chin with a smirk. Two grey newspaper clippings were hung up, each one cut to include the article and the grainy, black and white photo above the headline. The toothy smile of Ann Foster and nose-wrinkling grin of Madison Conolly, his first two children, greeted him just as they had the night before.

He was sorry they'd never see his masterpiece, but they could be proud of themselves for inspiring it.

Removing his glove, he placed it on a shelf beside some other knives, and flicked down the light switch. He closed the door once outside, squeezing the large padlock shut. It swung from the latch as he started up the stairs to the kitchen.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was eleven by the time Loretta clocked out of work. The light, evening drizzle had become a torrential storm, pouring out rain drops that pelted the street like a hail of bullets. Through her jacket to her uniform, she was sopping wet. A pool of water sloshed inside her shoes from all the puddles that were impossible to avoid. Her soaked, ratty hair stuck to her cheeks as she pressed on, face tipped down and eyes squinted. Her street came into view, and again the smallest flicker of hope sparked within her as she crossed a flooding gutter at the curb. Her house loomed a few mailboxes down, and she didn't lift her head until she was on the front lawn. A high pile of wet boxes and twister-sealed black bags by the trash cans diverted her attention.

Lifting open the brown, cardboard flaps of the nearest one, she peered inside. It was stuffed with clothes, and she dug through the contents until she recognized her favorite lavender cardigan. At the bottom was the green spotted piggy bank her grandmother gave her for her eighth birthday. Most of the boxes in the center of the heap weren't closed, and they'd taken on so much water that the cardboard looked like it was melting down into a lumpy mess. She reached forward for one of them, trying to drag it out, but ripping it in the process. More clothing and trinkets spilled out the side. Her hair brush, her wrist watch, a tangled knot of all her necklaces beside her broken jewelry box. The blue Martian figurine she'd saved up for months to buy now had a chip on the side of its head that trailed into a hairline crack across its face and over one of its seven eyes. When she looked into the next box, she wished she hadn't. It was filled to the top with her books, mangled and waterlogged. She picked up the first one and thumbed it open. Paragraphs were blotted out into wide ink splotches that spread over each page, becoming smaller the closer she got to the middle section. Every new raindrop that hit it blurred another sentence, and Loretta clapped it shut. The novels at the bottom were completely submerged in water, their pages disintegrating like wet tissues in her hands.

She put them all back and closed the flaps, for all the good that would do against the downpour. When she surveyed the mound of her belongings again, she saw something that she hadn't before. It was on the other side. She went around to it, already knowing what it was, but afraid to confirm it. Her mother's wedding dress that had been promised to her since she was a child was laid out low to the ground, over a few garbage bags. The once-pure, white gown was now splattered in mud, especially near the hem, which trailed in a dirty puddle. Stains of varying sizes, clustered across the garment, sunk through the delicate layers of lace.

They'd given her the dress, just like she'd asked.

That weekend, she and Freddy were wedded at the local Justice's office. No guests, no flowers, no cake. Just a fountain pen and a signature on the dotted line.

xxxxxxxxxx

Loretta placed the white bucket and mop up against the cellar wall. The floors in her new home were shining, and dinner was roasting in the oven. It was only her second trip down here since she'd moved in, so she wasn't at all surprised when she noticed a door that she'd missed the first time. It was off to the side, closed with a large, forbidding padlock. She yanked on it anyway, to test it, but it wouldn't come open.

After going back upstairs to check the ham and green beans, she found Freddy on his comfy chair in the living room. He was sitting behind a new, unfolded copy of _The Springwood Gazette_. He turned a page over and shook it out stiff.

"Dinner's done?" he guessed, glancing at her over the top of the paper.

"Not yet." she replied.

When he tried to go back to reading, she added, "But I had a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Why is that door in the basement locked?"

He let the newspaper drop to his lap, looking directly into her eyes. "Don't worry about that. It's my work room; you don't have to go in there."

"What kind of work?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She didn't know he had a hobby.

"Carpentry, some other stuff." he sounded disinterested.

"Then why is it locked?"

"I said _don't worry about it_." he got off the chair, clearly annoyed by her barrage of questions. He leered over her to make sure she heard every syllable. "I don't want you getting into my tools, so stay out of there. Understand?"

"Okay, sorry." she muttered, dropping the conversation before he got even more upset. As she returned to the kitchen to lay out the plates and forks for their meal, she wondered if he had meant to intimidate her, or if she had misunderstood what just happened. No, she decided it must have been in her head. He was probably just shy about letting her see his projects. That's all.

xxxxxxxxxx

The lunch bell rang, and Loretta funneled out through the door of her algebra class with the other students, and into the crowded corridor. On her way to the cafeteria, she shot a guilty glance downward at her left hand, where there should have been a gold ring. It wasn't that she was ashamed of being married to Freddy; it was the _way_ they'd tied the knot. If her classmates saw the ring, they'd want to know how the ceremony was, and ask why they weren't invited. She would have to tell them that no one was invited, because there was no ceremony. Saying it out loud would be so embarrassing. On school grounds, and only there, she wanted to pretend that she was still one of the kids. When that ring was on, it was like she didn't belong there anymore. But with only the rest of senior year to get through, she'd graduate soon, and none of this would be a problem anymore. She was so close.

When school got out that afternoon, she didn't waste any time getting to the sidewalk to hurry home.

"Hey, Loretta!"

A friendly voice called from behind. Macy, one of the other seniors from her english class, strolled up beside her in a bouncy yellow skirt, and hooked her arm.

"We're going to the movies." she said, smiling back at the two boys following her, "Want to come?"

Loretta shook her head. "I can't today. I have to get home."

"That's too bad." Macy sighed, then cocked her head as a thought hit her. "Isn't your house the other way?"

Loretta groaned inwardly. She's have to kick herself later for forgetting that no one knew she'd moved. "It is, but I have to stop by the drugstore first."

"Then we're all going in the same direction, right? We'll walk with you."

Macy was a charming girl, the sort who wore red lipstick and got along with almost anyone, and Loretta found it difficult to turn her down.

"Sure." she conceded.

The shortest route would take them right down Elm Street. All she'd have to do is go a little ways past her new house, then turn around and come back when they went into the theater. It should only take an extra fifteen minutes, and she might still make it home before Freddy returns from work.

As they strolled down the side of the road together, Loretta realized she was glad they joined her. She didn't have much time for friends lately, with everything that went on, and it was refreshing. She missed just being with other kids and having fun. Ed, one of Macy's boyfriends, had them all laughing so hard that Loretta didn't even notice when they were going by the front of her home. She didn't see the red truck parked in the driveway. Or her husband standing at the window.

By the time she returned alone, all the curtains were drawn. Considering that it was still the afternoon, the cave-like darkness inside surprised her. Maybe Freddy had a headache and wanted a nap. She pulled the door shut and kicked off her shoes into the corner, not bothering to undo the laces. Dinner wouldn't need to be started for another hour, and a warm mug of chamomile tea was just what she needed.

Discarding her jacket over the back of the lounge chair, she turned towards the kitchen archway right as Freddy came through. It only took a few seconds for Loretta to recognize the particular kind of quiet tension that she hadn't felt since she lived with her parents.

He stared her down, taking something out of his trouser pocket. His thumb and index finger held up her wedding ring.

"I found this in your night table." he said, holding her with his eyes. "Why aren't you wearing it?"

"I must have forgotten." she lied, "I was so tired this morning, I-"

"Bullshit."

She flinched.

"You left it home so you could go messing around with those guys." he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at the street outside. "Why else would you pretend to be single?"

"That's ridiculous, I wasn't-" she tried to protest, but he yelled over her again.

"Shut the fuck up!"

She'd never seen him snarl like that before, never seen his face make such a violent contortion.

"Where the hell do you get off thinking you can sneak around behind my back?" he roared, fists clenched. "And then you try to _lie to me_ about it."

"I didn't lie about going for a walk with my friends," she shook her head, "I wasn't hiding it."

"You don't need to go anywhere with them, or go to school _at all_." he shot back.

"What are you talking about, Fred? I'm almost done; I have to get my diploma."

"Why? So you can keep waitressing? You don't fucking need it." he growled, advancing as she backed into the chair. She didn't like the way he towered over her, like he did last time.

"It's something I want to accomplish. For myself." she said after she drew herself up.

He leaned into her face, voice thick with venom. "You only want it so you can act like you're better than me. That's pathetic."

She snapped, and finally shouted back. "I've never thought that for a second, and I've _never_ cheated on you. You're the one hiding things! You'll go snooping through _my_ drawers, but I can't even look inside that stupid room of yours."

It wasn't until the pressure began to throb below her eye, and a copper taste filled the corner of her mouth, that she even registered the hard slap.

"You're gonna have to learn that when I say not to do something, that's final. And you don't bring it up again." he said, gripping the side of her neck. Still not satisfied, he wound his arm back a second time, and smacked his palm across her cheek. Her head snapped off to the side on impact.

"If you let anyone see you without this on again," he warned, taking her wrist to fit the ring back on her, "I'll stitch it onto your finger."

She was paralyzed, staring at the wall. When he grabbed her chin, the look of fear she gave him was tantalizing.

He'd been wrong. Maybe he _could_ turn her back into a little girl.

He lowered his mouth onto her bruised lips, parting them with a slant of his head. Despite the sting from the force he used, she didn't move or make a sound.

"What's for dinner?" he asked as he went around the back of the lounge chair to take a seat. "I'm starving."

Still too stunned to know what else to do, she remained where she was and answered, "Rosemary chicken and potatoes."

"Sounds delicious."

xxxxxxxxxx

Even now, as she hunched over on a toilet lid in the girl's bathroom at school, replaying the argument in her mind, she couldn't figure out what had caused such an escalation. Was it her? It was understandable for Freddy to be upset after catching her without the ring. If she had worn it like she was supposed to, the whole thing could have been avoided.

And yet, everything had gone on afterwards as if nothing happened. They ate dinner, Freddy made offhand complaints about his job, and by the time they'd gotten into bed, Loretta had begun doubting the seriousness of the issue.

She'd woken up earlier that usual this morning to dab makeup on her discolored cheek, but when she got to school, she came straight here and locked herself in the third stall. She'd missed her first two classes, not wanting to be here, but not wanting to go out _there_ , either. All she wanted right now was to wrap her arms around her mother. That was the only thing that could comfort her. She was confused and scared, and she didn't know what to do. But mom would know; she'd make everything okay again. It didn't matter what Loretta had to do to win her back. She would fall to her knees and beg, if that's what it took. She needed her mom more than anything.

Leaving the toilets behind, she slipped out of the restroom and hurried past a suspicious hall monitor. She sprinted out the doors and onto the street, running all the way to her parent's house.

But the only thing waiting for her when she arrived, out of breath, was a vacant building with a red and white "For Sale" sign jutting out of the front lawn. With no energy left to cry, she rested on the doorstep and folded herself up tight, laying her head on her knees. Maybe this was a big joke and they were about to jump out from somewhere, laughing and coming to hug her. To tell her what a good sport she's been, and promise that they'll never prank her like this ever again.

But she was getting tired of hoping for things like that. It was making her sick. They were gone, and Freddy was her family now.

"Loretta?"

She looked up to see the heavy-set next door neighbor, Mrs. Burnham, crossing onto the grass. She'd known the woman for years; she used to let the kids on their street play with her garden hose on the hot summer afternoons, and bring out a tray of pink lemonade for them afterwards. Neither one said anything until she sat beside Loretta, and even then, there was a stretch of thoughtful silence.

"I saw what they did with all of your things." the older woman said, bushing her dirt covered hands together. "Don't worry, I won't pry into your personal business, dear. They didn't tell me where they were moving, but your mother left me their new phone number, in case I wanted to chat."

With a sympathetic smile, Mrs. Burnham held out a strip of yellow paper with the digits written in pencil, and went back to her property. Loretta wanted to tear it up right then, but stuffed it in her pocket instead.

She didn't move from that step until the sun was high at three o'clock.

xxxxxxxxxx

From the upstairs bathroom, Loretta heard the jingling of Freddy's keys as he opened the front door, and dropped his coat on the rack. She shut off the faucet and patted her hands dry on her beige towel that hung by the tub.

The sound of his boots on the stairs made her nervous, although there was nothing to be nervous about. She felt the urge to either lock the door or run out and greet him, but did neither. He stood at the threshold seconds later, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. One arm was held behind his back, and his brown hat was tipped low over his forehead.

"Hello, sweetheart." he said, revealing a colorful packet of Charms Lollipops.

She grinned and took it from him. These were her favorite candy, but she hadn't tasted them in months. She felt so silly now for doubting him. Every married couple had arguments; it was normal.

"Thanks." she said as she pecked him on the lips, then hugged his waist. It felt like she was falling backwards when he scooped her off the ground.

"What are you doing, Fred?" she laughed, holding onto his flannel shirt.

"I just remembered that I was supposed to carry you inside after we got married." he teased with a wink, and started towards their bedroom. He heaved an exaggerated sigh, "I guess we're going to have to redo our whole wedding night. Oh, well."

Tossing the candies on her dresser top, he footed the door closed behind them.

The next few weeks passed without incident, and Loretta started to think that it would always be this way.

And Loretta was wrong.

xxxxxxxxxx

Early winter settled over Springwood, blanketing the town in drifts of snow. The sun stayed low in the pale sky everyday, and set before its warmth could melt the icicles clinging to rooftop gutters around the neighborhood. Orange and pink evening light from behind the bare sycamore trees flooded through the windows of 1428 Elm.

With a long, wooden broom in her hand, Loretta padded down the hallway, on her way downstairs to put a pot of water to boil for dinner. As she took hold of the railing, a strange sound coming from the master bedroom stopped her. The dark wooden door was ajar, and she went to stand behind it. She leaned forward on her toes and peered through, letting the broom rest on the wall.

Freddy was moving about, transferring small piles of folded clothes from on top of their bed to their bureau drawers. She smiled, knowing how much he disliked laundry. He was doing it to surprise her later. And probably to persuade her of better uses for their new mattress.

As she was about to turn away and get back to work, Freddy pulled a long piece of gleaming metal from the back of his middle drawer. Her brows knit together. What was that doing in there? Lifting his shirt up over his head, he tossed it to the floor. She bit back a gasp when he put the strait-razor to his chest and pulled it across, leaving a thin crease in his skin that almost immediately overflowed with blood. With a grotesque mixture of pain and alleviation, he canted his head back. She just stood there, staring, too horrified to breath. And he did it again. And again. Her head began to shake as she mutely begged him to stop. When he did, her relief was short lived.

"Come in here." he said, without looking at her. Running away was her first instinct, but she reminded herself that he was her husband. What's there to be afraid of? From what she could see of the side of his face, he didn't look angry. He didn't even look annoyed. She knew he hated to repeat himself, so she pushed the door open and waked over the matted, old carpet. Stopping just inside the room, she waited with a tense, twisting gut. She felt like a child about to be scolded, though she didn't know what for.

"Why are you hurting yourself?" she asked.

He raised his hand and motioned her closer. There was a moment of hesitation, but she went. Her eyes flickered between Freddy and the stained blade in his grip.

"Give me your arm."

She cringed back, confused, but he remained calm.

"You want to know why I'm doing this. I'll show you." Something in that low voice he used always convinced her that everything was fine, and she was simply overreacting. He'd used it before. "It's okay, Loretta."

Forcing a swallow down her dry throat, she shook her head. "No."

He flashed the faintest bit of disappointment, maybe anger.

"You don't trust me?" he asked as he snatched her forearm and turned it over, gripping it with white knuckles. The more she tried to pull against him, the harder he squeezed. He watched her face closely as he touched the razor's edge to her skin, and left it there while she struggled. It was a quiet struggle, as if she thought that somehow, by not making a big deal of it, she could get away and pretend that she never saw anything. But he kept it on her arm, holding it still, until she eventually gave in. After a few pointless tugs, she stopped resisting.

That must have been what he was waiting for, because he seemed pleased. Her erratic breaths hitched as he sliced the blade into her flesh. Flinching from the sting of it, she bit her lip to suppress a whimper.

"See? It's not so bad." he crooned, "Want to try again?"

At the thought of doing that a second time, she found her voice. "No. Don't, Fred."

"Then you don't understand, yet."

Keeping her in a bruising grip, he yanked her closer. She was about to say something, when she felt the next cut, right above the last. She cried out and clasped her other hand onto his shoulder, gritting her teeth. As her nails dug into him, he exhaled and rested his head against the side of her neck.

After a while, he let her go and locked himself in the bathroom. The squeaking knobs and the hush of the shower were muffled behind the door. Loretta walked down the stair case and into the kitchen, staring blankly ahead as she prepared the spaghetti. A few tears dripped into the simmering water.

* * *

 **A/N: As always, the new chapter will be posted next Thursday, May 28.  
**

 **When I first conceived of this story, I started writing little scenes, in no particular order, of interactions between Loretta and Freddy. Just for brainstorming fun. Then I began plotting the actual chapters. This last scene where Freddy cuts Loretta was actually the very first thing I ever wrote for this fic. I wrote it over four months ago, and I'm finally using it now! Hurray!**

 **I'd love to get some feedback for this story, so feel free to leave a review. Let me know what you think! :)**

 **FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: I DON'T OWN "THE THREE STOOGES", OR CHARMS LOLLIPOPS.**


	4. Sever

**A/N: Enjoy the new chapter! It was a pleasure to write, which is strange because usually the entire process, from first draft to final edit, is 90% difficult and 10% SLIGHTLY LESS difficult.  
**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street or any of its characters.**

 **WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Sever  
**

 **1961**

A clear drop of water swelled at the seam of two copper pipes, falling into the puddle below. Rings rippled out from the center, going calm as another droplet formed. For a while, this was the only sound echoing in the dark.

Then a flame was struck at the end of a match, and a greater fire roared to life through the open door of the black furnace. The dank cement walls caught the red glow and the long shadows it cast. Standing at the end of one of those shadows, Freddy dumped a grungy, stained sheet into the flaming mouth. He closed the slotted latch and flicked out the knives of his claw. Blots of fresh blood splattered by his tightly laced boots, coloring the dull, grey floor of the boiler room. He'd learned by his fifth child that dismembering the bodies made them easier to transport, and he crouched beside the battered little boy with the intent to do exactly that. The last glimmer of consciousness slipped from his eyes as Freddy began sawing into his shoulder. A thick pool of blood spread from the corpse. He knew he would have to wipe it up later, and he chuckled to himself that he was finally using the skills he'd acquired from his last job for something more _creative_. He was glad to say goodbye to Springwood Elementary; his new position at the Power Plant offered him better wages and more privacy. More time to spend with his piglets.

The metal teeth hit bone, and he had to lean forward to put more pressure on it. When he reached the marrow, he snapped it the rest of the way, and severed the remaining flesh that held it to the torso. He carved off the other limbs, piling them all onto the boy's tiny chest. Bones stuck out from the arms and legs like spears, broken to a sharp point. A fringe of stringy tendons dangled around them, flapping as Freddy rolled the corpse, appendages and all, into a heavy quilt. He folded over the ends and carried the bundle out through a short corridor, to where he parked his truck.

The age of the vehicle was starting to show. Its bright, cherry red finish had faded and scuffed. A shallow dent had been in the passenger's door for the last seven months, and the tires were wearing out. Bringing the wrapped body down off his shoulder, he laid it on the pickup bed. He pushed his sturdy toolbox against it, holding it to the side wall so it wouldn't roll around and come undone.

Under the driver's seat, he kept a change of clothes. He tugged his stained t-shirt over his head, and removed his trousers, snaking the brown belt out of its loops. Nude except for pinstriped boxer shorts, he unfolded the clean outfit. The black tank top smelled like scented detergent and the warm soil in their backyard where it had been hung to dry. It had started to lighten from being left out in the sun for too long. After dressing himself and adjusting his pants at the hips, he stuffed the filthy, used garments into a shopping bag and left it in the back, beside his tools. Then he settled in front of the steering wheel and rolled out of the dirt parking lot. A cloud of dust followed behind the bumper.

The Power Plant towered in the background, a monstrous mass of steel with only three visible windows. Pipes the size of tree trunks ran along the exterior, while one huge metal tube extended from the top of the building to the ground. The truck passed under a high, metal frame, and turned onto the street.

xxxxxxxxxx

Loretta wasn't prepared when she heard his tires crunch the gravel outside. She paced the kitchen floor, trying to figure out how she was going to break the news to him. But every scenario she imagined ended with him screaming, throwing things. No matter how she said it, he would find a way to blame her. She wished it didn't have to be anyone's fault.

On the stovetop, the soup bubbled under its lid, spilling onto the burner with a steamy sizzle. The smell of parsley and chicken wafted into her face as she took off the lid to stir the pot. Creamy dumplings swirled around the birch wood spoon.

Freddy dragged out a chair and plopped down, stretching his legs under the table. Her pulse filled her ears as she dunked the ladle into the broth to fill their bowls.

"It's hot." she said, setting one in front of him. Wisps of steam filtered through the yellow ceiling light.

He held up the rim to his lips and sipped it, ignoring both Loretta and the spoon she'd laid for him. She sat across from her husband and clenched her hands into her red and white checkered skirt.

"Fred?" she began, too nervous to eat.

He looked over to her while spooning half a dumpling into his mouth. A shrug as he chewed was her signal to continue.

"I'm…I mean, we're…" her words trailed off without an ounce of confidence.

He furrowed his brows. "What's the matter, Loretta?"

"I'm pregnant."

His expression was blank as he looked at her stomach, blinked, then brought his eyes back up to hers.

"With a baby?" he asked, still lost in shock.

When she nodded, he gave her a grin as wide as a melon slice. He jumped out of his seat, rushing to her side to pick her up and place her on the edge of the table. A smile broke out on her face as he pressed his open palm onto her belly.

"You can't feel anything, yet." she giggled.

This was unreal for her. He wasn't angry. He wasn't worried about being able to afford diapers, and clothes, and trips to the doctor, and all the other things babies needed. He wasn't yelling that she was a slut, and she'd been sleeping around. He wasn't hitting her.

He was _fawning_ over her. And he looked like he might die of happiness.

"What are we gonna name it?" he asked.

Her legs swung back and forth under the table as he took her old seat.

"I don't know." she said, and they both rested their chins on the heels of their hands. She could tell from his serious expression that his mind was racing through every name he could remember. The room grew quiet with thought, and Loretta let out a contended sigh. For the first time in years, she had some peace because this baby was going to change things.

Every man changes when he becomes a father.

"If it's a boy, how about William?" she offered.

"Nah," he waved it off, face scrunched in distaste.

"Andrew, then?"

"That one's okay," he said, "but what if it's a girl?"

"There was a girl in my kindergarten class named Shannon. I think it's beautiful." she mused.

"Hold on, I've got it." he said, grinning, "We'll name her Katherine."

"I don't really like that one, Fred."

He ignored her protest. "No. It's perfect."

Loretta hopped off the table, trying to change the subject before she upset him.

"Well, we don't have to decide right away. We've got plenty of time."

"I know." he agreed as he pushed her bowl of soup towards her. "Now, you need to eat if you want our little Andrew-Katherine Kruger to grow properly."

She smirked and rolled her eyes before drinking a spoonful of the lukewarm chicken broth.

xxxxxxxxxx

A laid back, piano and saxophone melody droned from the speakers on the ceiling. Loretta browsed the isles of the grocery store with a shopping basket hanging from the crook of her elbow, strolling over the pale yellow tiles. Each shelf was paired with a long, tubular fluorescent light hanging above it. Merchandise of all kinds, from baked goods to fresh fruit, was packed in the shelves without leaving the smallest gap. The one before her held stacked cans of sweet potatoes, corn, green beans, and other colorful vegetables lined up in neat rows. Freddy liked carrots, so she picked out two of those and placed them in her basket, beside a brown carton of eggs and a bagged head of ice burg lettuce. As she was strolling towards the frozen foods at the back wall, something on her left drew her attention. She stopped to admire the rounded jars of mashed baby food, with a soft smile on her lips.

It had only been about a month, so she hadn't begun to show yet. But even at such an early stage, she was feeling the weight of responsibility. It was overwhelming. Between that and the morning sickness (which, someone should have warned her, could happen at any time throughout the day), she couldn't focus in her classes. Freddy had told her it was pointless to get her diploma, and he was right. So she dropped out a week ago. Her baby didn't need a scholar; it needed a mother.

She went to the freezers, passing by the T.V. dinners, ice cream tubs, and ready-made pies, until she came to the meat section. Through the glass door, she considered the prices of the pork, beef, and chicken. Beef was usually the most expensive, but it was on sale today and tomorrow for seventy-nine cents per pound. They hadn't had it in a while. The suctioned seal on the door broke as she pulled it open, and took out the package of sliced beef. She dropped it in with the rest of the food, and went to the checkout line.

A few people were ahead of her, so she looked to the tall, red magazine rack for a distraction to pass the minutes. She never bought these silly things, but the images were bright and enticing. Smiling models with perfect teeth, and hairstyles that she could never recreate no matter how long she stood at the bathroom mirror, stared out at the shoppers. Below them, taking up three slots, were today's copies of the _Gazette_. The front page headline stood out in huge, black letters:

"SPRINGWOOD SLASHER CLAIMS NEW VICTIM".

She skimmed the article, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach.

"Last night, authorities discovered the remains of eight-year-old Nicholas Krantz in  
the forest bordering Springwood Municipal Park. Krantz had been reported missing  
on February 9th, over one month ago, by his mother and step-father, Jacqueline and  
Noah Halpbern. They are refusing interviews at this time.

In his statement to reporters this morning, Sheriff Thompson announced that he  
and his lead detectives are certain Krantz's death is the latest in the string of  
murders that have 'threatened the very foundation of our community'.

With no other evidence to release to the public, police have linked this crime to the  
previous five only by the demonstrated age preference of the killer, and the grotesque  
state in which the body was found. The victim's severed limbs had been strewn  
across half an acre of-"

Loretta turned away, a wave of nausea gripping her gut. She used to baby sit Nicholas when he was a toddler. After his baths at night, he would tie the short end of a big red towel around his neck like a cape, and dash through the house, pretending to be a super hero.

"Ma'am?" the cashier, a lanky teenage boy in a white apron and visor, drummed his fingers on the register. There was a traffic jam of foot-tapping people behind her, and empty floor space in front.

She unloaded her basket in a hurry, placing the items on the counter. The boy tallied them, and she dropped the dollar bills and coins into his hand.

"Thank you, come again." he said in a voice as stale as an old soda cracker.

xxxxxxxxxx

Freddy folded up the newspaper and tossed it aside, leaning back into the worn lounge chair with a frustrated groan. He loved it when they found his slaughtered piggies and wrote articles about him, but he'd been getting that _itch_ again, and it was going to be very difficult to _scratch_ it with every parent in Springwood keeping their brats on a three-foot leash. The chances of him catching one alone just went to shit. And Loretta wasn't making things any easier on him. She hadn't let him touch her since she gave him the big news. Said it would hurt the baby. He would have flipped her onto her stomach and done it anyway, except that he thought she might be right. After all, he didn't know a damn thing about babies, and he didn't want to kill his own.

He only wanted to kill everyone else's.

The front door swung open and Loretta came through, walked past him without a word, and went to the base of the stairs. She put one foot on the bottom step, then hesitated and turned around.

"Did you see the morning paper?" she asked, clearly distressed.

He nodded toward the _Gazette_ on the coffee table.

"I knew that little boy." she said as she crossed the room to stand in front of him. "This isn't just some scary story on the six o'clock news. It's real. These kids are being hunted down."

He shrugged. "Their parents should have been watching them. It's their own fault."

"But you're going to _be_ one of those parents soon, and so am I." her voice was thin and strained.

"And?"

His apathy towards the situation only upset her more. "This town isn't safe. We could move to Central Ci-"

"No." he shut her down flat. Expecting her to say nothing else about it, as she had learned to do whenever he spoke in that tone, he started walking away. But she stopped him in his tracks.

"Fred. I mean it. I don't want to be here anymore, not with that maniac loose."

"What the fuck did I just tell you?" he growled, rage simmering behind his eyes. Loretta felt the stab of adrenaline to the heart, but she pushed past it.

"There's no reason for us to stay. We could just pack up and go. _Please_."

"You're so full of shit, Loretta," he hollered, ripping a lamp off the side table next to him and throwing it into the wall. Shards of glass rained down over the rug from the smashed bulb. The plastic shade fell off of it, cracked and dented. "You never wanted to live here, and you're using the murders as an excuse to leave. Well, too damn bad. This is my house, and we're not going anywhere."

The veins on the sides of his neck were bulging as he glared at her.

"But, Fred," she insisted.

He stalked towards her, jaw grinding, and shoved her against the red door. "Go ahead. Say one more word."

"Stop it," she cried.

The back of his fist hit her ear, and she tumbled to the floor. Before she gathered herself to try to stand, rough fingers tangled into her hair, yanking her back up. Both her hands grabbed onto his in a vain attempt to pry him off. He sneered, giving her hair a hard twist and eliciting a scream.

"Let go," she pleaded.

"Shut your god damn mouth." he roared as he clutched her jaw and turned her face up. He was seething, sucking air through his teeth. He hammered his fist into her throbbing temple to knock her down again. With a disoriented stagger, she tried to crawl away.

"Where are you going, bitch?" he asked. His black boot stomped on her leg to pin her in place. "I didn't say you could leave."

She bit back a sob as he grabbed her arm and dragged her towards him, lifting her to her knees.

"But then, you don't fucking _listen_ to what I say, do you?" he snarled as he back handed her again. A splatter of blood flew from her swollen mouth. "You think you can do whatever the fuck you _want_." he punctuated the last word with another solid slap. "Just _pack up_ ,"

Slap.

"and _go_."

Slap.

"As if a stupid bitch like you would even know how to survive outside of your cozy little Springwood playpen." he spat, letting her collapse into a trembling heap.

When she tried to stand again, he hobbled her with a hard kick to the thigh, and she rolled onto her side. Her forehead slick with sweat, she curled up to cover her stomach. But not once did he aim for it. He kicked her shins, her arms, everywhere his foot could reach, except for her stomach.

One blow to the shoulder sent her sprawling out on her back. He sat on her hips, brushing the hair off her sticky face.

"You should know better than to talk back." he scolded, shaking his head in disapproval. He cut off her labored breathing with a single hand, crushing her throat. Her blood shot eyes rolled back as she gagged and tried to push him off. She beat on his chest with fading strength, but it only made him snicker. He let go, allowing her a gulp of air. Her eyelids sagged as she lay motionless, like a discarded rag doll. A gash had split open over her shiny, purple cheek. Streams of blood were drying on her chin.

Freddy got up and went outside on the doorstep. He opened his box of Lucky Strikes, tapping one out. His head tipped down to the spark of his lighter, and the cigarette caught the flame. The end glowed orange, smoldering as he inhaled.

xxxxxxxxxx

The telephone rang out from on top of the short, thin-legged table beside the sofa. It went unanswered for a while, until Loretta walked into the living room and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, is this Loretta krueger?"

"Yes." she said, switching the phone to the other ear.

"Loretta, it's Mr. Barnes. We need to talk."

Shit. It was the manager at Crave Inn. She swallowed and braced herself for what she knew he was about to say.

"You haven't come in to work for the last two weeks. I understand that you're pregnant now, and I wish you and your husband the best with that, but I can't keep an employee that doesn't do their job."

If he had only given her a few more days, her face would look normal enough for her to leave the house. She would have needed to use makeup to hide the remaining cuts and discoloration, but it wouldn't be that noticeable. All she needed was a little more time.

"Mr. Barnes, I'm so sorry. I wont make excuses, but I can come work right now. Or on the late shift, if you want. Please." she tried to persuade him.

"It's too late for that. I have to let you go." and the line went dead.

She let the phone slide out of her hand and dangle from its curly cord. This whole thing could have been worse, she consoled herself. She could have lost a lot more than her job, and she should be thankful for that. At least her baby survived.

This time.

xxxxxxxxxx

Silver lined clouds sailed past the glowing moon outside the window, floating along in the glistening sea of stars. Loretta had been watching them for hours through sheer white curtains as she lay in bed with sheets bunched under her arms. She listened to Freddy's slow, rhythmic breathing beside her. The clock ticked away for an eternity, and she didn't move an inch until she knew he was sleeping.

She sat up slowly, rolling the covers off of her, and lowered one leg to the floor at a time. As she stood up, the board beneath her creaked. She cringed, looking over her shoulder at Freddy.

He was still asleep.

She crept to the bedroom door, which she'd left partially open, and turned to the side to fit through without having to touch it. It brushed over the thin, lavender fabric of her nightshift. In the hallway, she released the breath she'd been holding. The stairs stretched out before her, disappearing into darkness at the bottom. She held the banister and slid her bare foot out to feel for where each step dropped to the next.

Still careful not to make a sound, she made her way into the kitchen. A simple dress was rolled up behind the cookie jar on top of the refrigerator, and she reached up to grab it. After changing, she went to the other side of the room.

The oven door screeched when she pulled it down by the handle. She had to stop and fit her arm through the narrow gap to retrieve a canvas bag. After slinging it across her chest and adjusting it at the shoulder, she popped out the two buttons holding the bag closed to riffle through its contents.

The wrapped sandwiches were there, along with a tooth brush, tooth paste, and a bundle of dollar bills. It wasn't much, but it was all she could pack without him noticing.

When she reached the front door and turned the knob, she felt a pang of guilt. If she went through with this, he would never see his child.

She crossed the threshold, shutting the door behind her. The thin, green sign for Elm Street stuck out of the grass at the corner, leering over her as she passed it with her head down.

The bus station wasn't far. She didn't know what time it was, or anything about the departure schedules, but she didn't care. She'd get on whichever one was there waiting for her.

* * *

 **A/N: The new chapter will be posted next Thursday, June 4th.**

 **And I had way too much fun writing that fake newspaper article. Just wanted to let everyone know. Also, I've compiled an "(un)official soundtrack" for this story, with a song for each chapter. It's basically the music that captures the mood of the chapter or a certain scene. I just wanted to put together something fun for you guys. I'll post it with the final chapter when this series ends.  
**

 **Reviews are always appreciated!**

 **FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: I DON'T OWN LUCKY STRIKES CIGARETTES.**


	5. Try Again

**A/N: I had to edit this chapter at 1:00 am this morning so that it wouldn't be late. My eyeballs felt like they were going to slither out of my skull.  
Anyway, here you go! *Hands you chapter five, piping hot from the Story Oven, and right on time*  
**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ or any of its characters.**

 **WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Try Again**

The bus barreled down the highway against the darkened landscape. Plowed fields stretched out to the horizon like a patchwork quilt, meeting the black, star encrusted sky. A few cars sped past Loretta's window, their bright red tail lights streaking the dark and disappearing far ahead. She leaned her cheek against the cool glass, and listened to the hum of the engine.

This wasn't a top-down convertible, and she may not be the one driving, but this was the closest thing to freedom she'd felt in years. If only she could enjoy it without being plagued by thoughts of Freddy waking up alone and confused. Would he be angry? Would he cry?

She swallowed a dry lump.

Would he hate her?

The bus turned onto a narrow, adjacent road, slowing down to comply with the new speed limit. With the noise of the highway fading behind them, Loretta allowed the gentle rolling of the wheels to lull her. Her eyelids drooped shut, but she didn't fall asleep. Somehow she knew that if she did, she would dream about him. So she kept herself awake until they pulled into the bus stop outside Emerson Station.

Calling out their arrival, the driver cranked a lever beside him, and the slim glass doors parted. Loretta filed into the isle between the worn seats with several other passengers. A tall man in a three-piece suit stood in front of her, holding a brief case at his side and constantly checking his wrist watch. They were moving by inches, and Loretta stood on her tip-toes to see what was jamming them up. Leading the line was an elderly woman who scuttled along at turtle pace, stopping every few steps to adjust her yellow head scarf, despite the rising groans from the people stuck behind her.

Eons later, the woman finally hobbled off the bus, and the passengers began pouring out. The business man waited around to help Loretta out when her turn came.

"Thank you." she said, taking his hand as she climbed down the steep stairs.

"My pleasure, little lady." he flashed a charming grin and tipped his pin-striped hat before strolling into the mass of people.

As soon as she realized that she'd been smiling back at him, the shame hit her like a gut punch. She shouldn't be flirting with other men. It was wrong.

 _No, it wasn't_.

She had to stop and correct herself, repeating it in her mind like the vocabulary of a new language. She wasn't married anymore. She'd left her ring on the bedside table, and she was never going back for it. Her life belonged to her.

Finally.

The open air station was packed with nighttime travelers. Three long lines of people led up to the ticket booth windows, but the majority was clustered around the metal grate platform, waiting for the train. A continuous murmur ran through the crowd as men, women, and children tapped their feet, and made idle chit-chat with anyone close by. One particularly loud bearded man was scolding a woman with an infant on her hip, who looked like she was going to pass out from embarrassment. The whole situation made Loretta cringe as she took her place in line.

"Next, please." the blonde haired man behind the glass called her up, trying to keep his exhausted, heavy eyes open. "Where are you headed tonight, miss?"

"Um…" she glanced behind him, at the list of destination points on the wall.

He noticed her hopelessly lost expression, and woke up a little.

"Going on an adventure, huh?" he said, smiling.

"I hope so." her voice was small and tainted with uncertainty.

He leaned towards her on his elbows, as if confiding a secret. "I've heard that the south-eastern side of Central City is having nice weather. And a nicer job market, if you're looking to stick around."

"Then one-way, please." she said, laying the money on the counter.

After sliding the ticket towards her, he gave a half-hearted salute. "Hang in there."

She nodded and went to the platform to wait in the crowd of strangers. Once she was alone with her thoughts, that exact same guilt swelled in the pit of her stomach. But she ignored it, and after a while she heard a loud, steam whistle coming from a distance.

The locomotive rumbled in, its coupling rods passing one over the other, connecting the sets of wheels. They screeched against the tracks as it came to a halt. Porters in identical, double breasted blue uniforms slid open the doors to the railcars, and stepped out to help with the luggage of whomever they reached first. The iron cab at the front was slanted down, with a black chimney pipe sticking out of the roof, and a long chain of black passenger cars in tow. Each was hitched to the next by huge, metal links and pins, leaving some slack between them.

Loretta held her bag close as she followed the others to board the train. The interior was clean, but utilitarian. Straight rows of benches lined the walls, with large windows spaced along both sides. She sat near the back as the floor began to rumble under her feet. The car lurched forward before matching pace with the ones in front. Emerson Station shrank from view as new people congregated on the platform.

She peered out the glass to watch the scrolling scenery. Lush oaks and sycamores threw ovals of shade on the grassy plains as they rustled in the breeze, and the green blades swayed and bowed beneath them. An occasional farm house and silo sat perched on a distant hill, their silhouettes soft against the light grey dawn. With a halo of carmine red and orange hues, the sun crowned on the edge of the earth.

By mid-morning, the countryside had been left behind, and urban buildings had begun cropping up all around them. Tall, brick apartment complexes reached up toward the clouds, with fire escapes cascading down the side over cookie cutter windows. Farther ahead was a skyline of corporate buildings and towering offices that crowded and overlapped each other. Loretta touched her nose to the glass, staring out into the heart of Central City. She smiled, unaware that two railcars down, a man was lounging back on his seat, with the rim of his old brown fedora tilted to the tip of his nose.

And he was smiling, too.

xxxxxxxxxx

"What can I get for you?" the middle-aged woman with pinned up blonde curls asked from behind the counter.

"Actually, I wanted to know if there were any waitressing positions available here." Loretta said. She tried to sound confident and professional, but her nervousness had definitely show through. This wasn't Springwood, and none of these faces were familiar. She couldn't help being somewhat intimidated.

"I'll get you the manager, honey." the woman said with a weary smile, disappearing into the kitchen.

Loretta turned her back to the glass display case below the granite counter, filled with cream puffs, caramel-drizzled cakes, and assorted pastries topped with swirls of frosting. In truth, she was starving. But there wasn't much money in her bag, and she had to spend it with caution. That meant buying cheap food to get her and her baby through the day. Not cupcakes.

Still, the sight of all the customers munching on their desserts at little cherry wood tables made her stomach grumble.

A younger woman wearing horned glasses and an apron with _Strano's Café & Sweetery _embroidered over her chest came out through the same door.

"Hello." the woman greeted her.

"Good evening, Ma'am." Loretta said.

"Samantha told me that you're looking to work here, is that right?"

"Yes," she replied, eyes wide and earnest. "I really need a job. I'd be the best employee I could be."

The woman patronized her with a plastic smile. "I'm sure you would. Unfortunately, we aren't currently hiring here."

Masking her dejection, Loretta shrugged. "That's okay. Thank you for your time."

She left the café, stepping out onto the sidewalk. Beneath a harsh, yellow street lamp, she rubbed her back and huffed. This whole day had been exhausting. She had asked for work at every establishment she'd come across, and not a single one was hiring. She was beginning to think that blonde clerk who sent her here had no idea what he was talking about.

She set off down the road, moving aside to let two cackling drunk men pass her. They craned their necks and whistled after her.

"If you're lookin' for a good time, you're goin' the wrong way, baby." one slurred as he draped his arm over his buddy's shoulders.

She didn't respond or look back as they continued in their respective directions. Their laughter and off-key singing faded around a corner, leaving Loretta alone on the quiet street. She passed the marred faces of rundown town houses, built so close together that there was barely enough space between them for someone to fit sideways. Their windows were smashed, with the remaining shards pointing inward from the square, wooden frames like fangs. The soles of her shoes tapped the cement at a steady pace. When she stopped for a second to scratch her ankle, she heard a different set of footsteps a block behind her. She'd thought it was just an echo of her own, but with the sound now isolated, she could pick out the differences. These steps were farther apart and heavier.

The sound that large work boots make.

She continued walking, keeping her ears keen. Whoever it was had gotten closer, sending a wash of unease throughout her body. She took longer strides. The urge to run gripped her hard, but she shook it off, following a stronger instinct: the sense that if you run, you will be chased. She tried to convince herself that it was paranoia getting the better of her, but that didn't stop the sweat from breaking out on her forehead as the footsteps grew faster, closing the gap between them. They were a few yards behind her, but felt like they were at her heels.

And the steps weren't just getting closer. They were getting louder, harder.

Angrier.

They were no longer evenly paced, but out of control. The footsteps of a crazy person.

The panic cord snapped in her chest, and she clenched her fists, prepared to either fight or scream. Or both.

But when she spun around, there was no one there. Just a vacant street and a blinking red traffic light at the corner.

She threw glances over her shoulder the rest of the way, until she reached the seedy little inn she'd seen earlier.

In buzzing, blue neon letters, the sign read "Flower Motel". Below that was a wiry red rose that had shorted out, along with half the lights dotting the border. It didn't look very hospitable, with its puny parking lot littered with cigarette butts and other refuse. The few bushes lining the white office building were poorly kept. Scraggly twigs stuck out from them with shriveled, dead leaves. A police siren wailed from one of the back streets as she pushed through the smudged glass door. She was greeted only by a tarnished ash tray on the front desk, with a dozen tiny filters half-buried in grey soot. The stench of smoke and body odor filled her nostrils, and she involuntarily wrinkled her nose. By the time the source of the smell, the sweaty manager, trudged up from the employee bathroom to take her cash and hand her a key with a plastic number 16 attached to it, she felt like she was going to vomit.

xxxxxxxxxx

The surface of the dark water rippled, reflecting the small floodlight mounted to the back of the motel as Loretta kicked her legs beneath it. She sat at the edge of the in-ground swimming pool, with the gentle waves she created lapping at her knees. It was late, and she knew she needed to sleep, but she was restless. Her arms were in at her sides, palms flat on the rough, blue painted cement.

Since no one was around, she began humming a slow, soft melody to herself, to calm her nerves. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she couldn't find a job. Her roll of dollar bills was shrinking, and it wouldn't last to the end of the week.

Lifting her gaze from the water, she looked out over the small, square courtyard, draped in shadows. A rusty chain link fence surrounded the pool area, standing straight and sturdy everywhere except at the far end, where it lay flat on the ground in front of a long alley that stretched between two brick buildings.

Her humming faded on an odd note as she attempted to see beyond her bleak situation. Maybe she _would_ find employment. Then she could have her own apartment, or even her own house. She could go back to school, and get a better-paying job to support herself and her child. It wasn't going to be easy, but they could make it all by themselves.

That's what she kept telling herself.

She jolted at the sound of something toppling over from deep within the alleyway. Her eyes snapped towards it, but all she could see was the faint outline of a dumpster with its lid opened against the brick wall. Everything beyond that was like a black hole. A glass soda bottle rolled out from the darkness on a curved path, stopping at the downed railing of the fence.

She pulled her legs out of the water and stood up. With tentative steps, she moved around the pool. Swollen droplets ran down her calves, sprinkling around the wet footprints she left behind her.

She wanted to call out to see if anyone was there, but couldn't force the words past her throat. Instead, she walked over the rattling chain links, and stared into the wall of black that was thicker than the brick and mortar on either side of it.

It had probably been some stray cat, long gone by now.

As she was relaxing her shoulders, the dumpster lid slammed shut a few feet in front of her.

She didn't wait to see what it was, or feel the hairs rise on the back of her neck. She turned on her heel and sprinted back to her room, fumbling with the key at the door. After rushing inside, she closed it, flicked the dead bolt, and worked the brass chain lock into its slot.

Her chest was heaving when she sat on the side of the bed. She calmed herself, and came to the conclusion that it was the wind, or the same phantom cat that had knocked over the bottle. She was overreacting. No one was out there.

She turned down the blankets and slipped under them, hitting the light switch for the bulb in the ceiling fan. A short lamp sat on her night table, and she reached under the yellow shade to tug the string. It lit a small area, barely extending to the other side of the mattress, but it was enough to make her feel safe. She drifted off to sleep within minutes.

That didn't last, though, and two hours later she was awake again, tossing back and forth to get more comfortable. With an exasperated huff, she sat up and propped her head on her hand. Her eyes lingered on her tan canvas bag, and she grabbed it off the table, digging through it until she found what she wanted.

She hated herself for bringing these, but she couldn't help it. Her gaze rested on the stack of photographs as she shuffled through them.

The first was of her and Freddy smiling in front of an ornate carousel, with laughing children straddling the painted horses at different heights. Their pudgy fingers clasped the golden, spiraled poles. His arm was around her as she held up the porcelain faced, stuffed rabbit that he'd won for her at a prize booth. In her other hand was a double-scoop ice cream cone, smothered in chocolate syrup and a generous topping of colorful sprinkles.

The next picture showed them again, outside the courthouse right after they'd gotten married. Freddy wore a white collared shirt, and she had on a knee length, purple dress with a meager lace trim at the neckline. One of the secretaries had offered to snap some shots of them to commemorate their "special day", but the woman was certainly no photographer. Caught in the background were two men in expensive suits arguing on their way up the stairs to the main entrance, and a greasy, crumpled fast food bag skidding along the parking lot.

She'd only brought a few other photos, most of which were from when they were dating. Cycling through to the last one, she tucked them back into the bag and buttoned it closed. The back of her throat was dry, and she swallowed to try to ease it. When that didn't work, she got out from under the covers and flicked on the ceiling light.

And her heart stopped dead.

Two halves of the brass chain lock on the door hung straight down, cut in the middle, with pieces of a crushed link scattered on the matted beige carpet. She ran to check the dead bolt, finding that it had been locked again from the inside.

She hadn't seen him on the porch step, watching her sneak down Elm Street, or seen his truck following five cars behind the bus, or seen him in the crowd when she bought her train ticket.

And she didn't see the coat closet door opening behind her now.

"Where are you going to run this time, Loretta?" Freddy asked.

As she whipped around to see him, a sharp pain wrenched in her gut. She heard liquid splattering the rug, and her vision blurred as her legs buckled. The glare from the overhead bulb expanded, engulfing everything in white.

xxxxxxxxxx

The muffled voices were far away, becoming clearer as she floated up from the bottom of a silent, murky lake. It had seemed so remote, but in an instant the surface was rushing towards her.

Loretta's lashes stirred. She could hear the two men conversing, but only one of them was familiar.

"She's going to need a lot of rest, as well." the voice was articulate, succinct.

"I won't let her out of bed."

The sound of Oxfords clicking on the waxed linoleum floor.

"She's waking up."

Papers shuffling.

"Loretta?"

She stared first at the white ceiling, then at the person leaning over her. He had dark, combed back hair and a trim mustache.

"How are you feeling? My name is Dr. Harris."

After the man spoke, she noticed the white cot she was lying on, and the paper nightgown on her body.

"You're at Anderson Memorial Hospital. You were brought in a few hours ago by your husband." Dr. Harris explained.

"What happened?" she asked, regaining some clarity of thought.

The doctor shifted his eyes, and spoke in a soothing tone. "You're lucky to be alive, Loretta."

Her brow creased as she sat up.

"Why am I here? What happened?" she repeated as she searched his eyes. They flashed apprehension.

"When Mr. Krueger carried you in, you were hemorrhaging severely." Dr. Harris said, holding the clip board against his sterile white medical coat. "Your nervous system was over stressed, and you were malnourished."

She glanced back and forth between him and Freddy, who hadn't moved from the other side of the room.

"I'm so sorry." he went on, "We couldn't save the baby."

The words were clear and unmistakable, but she didn't even blink at them. It was like he was talking about someone else's child.

Not hers.

Any other baby could die. _Every_ other baby could die. Just as long as it wasn't hers.

But when she put her hands on her stomach, she knew that it was gone.

xxxxxxxxxx

The truck doors swung shut, one after the other, and Freddy held Loretta's upper arm as he walked her toward the house. It rose above her, with its perfect coat of white paint and blue shutters that no longer looked welcoming. The blacked out, circular window in the front door watched her like an eye.

The hospital had only kept her twenty-four hours for observation, and had turned her over to her husband just after midnight. Their street was quiet by the time they'd arrived, except for the chirping crickets hidden in the grass. All their neighbor's houses were dark, with children's toys and bicycles scattered across their lawns.

He released her through the front doorway with a shove, and placed his keys on the coffee table.

"Get upstairs." he said, undoing his shirt cuffs to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. She climbed the steps, stopping at the end of the hallway as he grabbed the back of her neck. He threw her into their bedroom door, which opened on impact, letting her stumble inside.

She rubbed her arm, and kept her wary gaze fixed on him as he stalked towards her.

"Haven't I taken care of you?" he said, his voice low and filled with disdain, "Isn't this house more comfortable than that ratty, piece of shit motel?"

When he reached around to tangle his fist in her hair, she shrank back.

" _Well_?" he growled.

"Yes. Yes, it is." she stammered, flinching.

"Then why did you leave?"

His glare was unrelenting, searing into her.

"I'm sorry, Fred."

"I don't give a fuck that you're sorry." he snarled into her face, " _Sorry_ isn't going to undo what you did, you stupid bitch."

As he lifted his other hand, poised for a slap, she kicked him in the side and tore out of his grip. He clutched at his gut where she'd struck him, broken strands of her hair sticking out from between his fingers.

She ran out the door, into the first spare room on the right. A high stack of boxes walled off the corner from view, and she ducked behind it, trying to hear beyond her own ragged breathing. She listened as Freddy stepped out of their bedroom, and onto the smooth bathroom tiles. The plastic shower curtain crinkled as he dragged it over to one side. The weighted stomp of boots worked its way through every room, as he tore their home apart searching for her. Doors were flung open so hard, their knobs cracked the dry wall, and everywhere he went, the noises followed him.

Crashing. Toppling. Ripping.

Then it stopped. She sank lower to the ground when she saw the shadows of his feet under the door. It creaked open, and the shadow extended over the wooden floorboards, climbing the back wall as he walked forward.

"Come out, Loretta." he called, "You're only making things worse."

He circled the room, checking in the closet.

"Oh, I get it. I'm scaring you, aren't I? Is that why you're hiding?" his voice sounded gentle, but she could hear the sinister edge it carried. "Don't worry, I promise I won't hit you."

Loretta looked out the window behind her, considering the drop to the front lawn. But what if it was locked? He'd hear it for sure. Even if she could make it out, the fall would break her ankle.

Before she had turned back, a pair of rough hands grabbed her arms and hauled her over the boxes, knocking the top one off the stack. It fell open, and spilled the folded sweaters inside onto the ground.

A scream ripped from her throat. She batted at him, thrashing against his bruising grip as he dragged her down the hall. He kicked the bedroom door open and tossed her onto their bed. The mattress creaked and bounced, recoiling from the force against it. He climbed over her and flipped her face-down before twisting her left arm behind her back.

"Get off me," she cried.

He didn't respond, leaning over to pull out the nightstand drawer. With the bottom half of her vision obscured by the pillow, she watched him take out her gold ring, and felt the cold metal slide onto her finger.

Then he reached into the drawer again, lifting a long piece of thread with one end pinched between his fingers. Dangling from the other end was a thick, gleaming needle.

"Fred," she whimpered, shaking beneath his crushing weight, "Stop,"

The tip pierced her sensitive flesh, leading the thread through before sinking into her again. She let out an agonized wail, her finger twitching as drops of blood surfaced around its base.

" _Please_ ," she begged before biting the pillow. It soaked up her tears and clear snot, becoming damp and cold. Thin rivers of blood trickled into the lines of her palm as he held her still and worked the stitches into the other side of her finger.

Not once did he tell her to shut up. And the only time she'd craned her neck far enough to catch a glimpse of his face, she saw a smirk stretched across it.

He enjoyed the tortured sounds she was making.

When her vocal chords could no longer handle the strain of her screams, she let out low, pathetic groans. A puddle of drool spread from the corner of her mouth.

He tied the string, and leaned down to bite off the excess, releasing her wrist. She curled her arms in and cupped a hand around the bloodied one. Red threads crossed over the ring, securing it in place. The needle rattled as he discarded it on the table.

Freddy flipped Loretta onto her back, but she squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at him. He touched her moistened lashes, and trailed his fingers over her tear-smeared cheek.

"See? I told you I wasn't going to hit you." he said, "Even though you deserve it. It's your fucking fault the baby's dead."

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, her voice hitching, "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that, or you're really gonna piss me off."

She sniffled and closed her mouth.

"It's over." he growled, "We're just going to have to try again."

He undid his fly, leering down at her. She braced her hands against his chest to keep him off, but he easily overpowered her and pressed their bodies together.

"Stop it!" she yelled, beating her uninjured fist into his arm over and over while he tasted the side of her neck. He seized her wrists with a vicious grin, holding them to the mattress above her head. All her struggling and bucking only excited him, and with a single hand, he ripped open the front of her dress. He reached underneath the skirt to tear off her underwear, tossing it behind him.

Fresh tears spilled over the outside corners of her wide eyes, and trailed into her ears.

He rolled her dress up over her head, leaving it tangled around her arms as he raised himself to his knees and peeled off his own shirt. With one soft thigh in each hand, he pulled her against his hips, licking his teeth. Her lower back was off the mattress as he rammed into her. He clutched her slim hips, looking down over the slope of her pliable body.

Her panting filled the room, timed with the slapping sound of flesh on flesh. An exhausted whimper escaped her, and she let herself go slack, taking the pain with no recoil. Soreness and dry friction burned her insides.

She waited for it to be over, but it felt like hours passed before he went rigid. He ground into her a few more times, and dropped her on the mangled bed covers, rolling onto his sweat-slicked back like a sedated animal.

With her legs sprawled the way he'd left them, she lay flat and motionless as she stared at the ceiling. Then she slowly curled away from him on her side, drawing up her knees.

That wasn't rape. She told herself the rest of the night: he was her husband, so it couldn't be. Things like that didn't happen to her.

In two weeks, she found out that she was pregnant again. But they didn't celebrate and choose names this time.

Freddy already had the name picked out.

* * *

 **A/N: Chapter 6 will be posted sometime between June 11 and June 14, and it will be the last one.**

 **I know, I know: I'm one sick puppy. But that was Freddy showing his true colors, so it had to be brutal. Actually, brutal is an understatement. That last scene was a Crime Against Humanity. And I would love to know what you think about it, so feel free (and welcomed!) to leave a review.**

 **And in case anyone was wondering about this, the birth year I'm using for Freddy in this story is 1940. Loretta is three years younger than him, so you can figure out their approximate ages in each chapter. :)**


	6. Replacement

**A/N: This is it. The final chapter.  
**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ or any of its characters.**

 **WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.**

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Replacement**

 **1962**

Loretta stuffed a blue washcloth into the drain and spread a larger towel over it, covering the bottom of the sink. She twisted on both taps before adjusting the flow of the water to a warmer temperature. The towel soaked it up as it turned a darker shade of blue from the center out. A few inches pooled over it, and the water level began rising. A bed of air bubbles clung to the towel's threaded texture.

She hadn't noticed that Freddy was home from work until she heard him coming down the hall. He poked his head in from around the open doorframe with a pleasant grin.

" _There_ she is," he said, crossing the tiles. He passed Loretta, and bent over to scoop the baby out of her yellow, tri-pod walker. "There's my little princess."

Lifting her up to his face, he planted a loud kiss on each chubby cheek, and one on her round belly as she giggled.

"Is it bath time, Katherine?" he crooned as he laid her on the changing table. He undid the snaps on her doll-sized onesie, and pulled it off, leaving the baby in only a diaper. She cooed and babbled as she kicked her little legs in the air like a frog. With a cold wipe in hand, he peeled off the tabs and opened the wet nappy, sliding it out from under her.

Loretta swept her fingers through the water as she shut it off.

After he wiped Katherine clean, Freddy picked up the naked baby, and placed her in the sink. Her arms flailed as he held her upright and poked her button nose. He left the room, chuckling to himself without looking at Loretta even once.

She stared down at her baby, who was darting her large brown eyes from the shower, to the towel rack, to her mother, and back around. Katherine's gaze never focused on anything for more than a few seconds. Her miniature palms slapped the surface of the water, splattering Loretta's blouse.

She dunked a rag and squirted two pumps of gentle shampoo and body wash before lathering it over the infant's corn-silk hair. A drop of soapy water rolled over her rounded forehead, and into her eye. Her tiny brows creased, and her whole face wrinkled up as she started making that awful noise. The one Loretta had to listen to every night. It started like a nasally cough, then transitioned into long, ear-splitting wails, growing louder until Loretta couldn't take it anymore.

But tonight, it was as if the cries didn't reach her. She watched the red faced, screaming baby with a cold detachment, still scrubbing her head. The inside corner of Katherine's eye was turning pink, and tears swelled over her cheeks.

When she was finished shampooing, she left the rag in a soggy heap beside the sink. The crying seemed to drift farther and farther away, as if carried by some imaginary wind until she couldn't hear it anymore. She slowly moved her hand up the baby's dimpled back, and began reclining her into the bath. First, her chest went under, then the sud covered hair, then her tiny ears. The water crept up around her face, which was still contorted by mute screams. It covered everything but the tip of her nose. The nose that Freddy said was as sweet as a cherry.

Then that sank under, too.

Katherine stopped crying the second she was submerged. Her arms and legs went still as she lay flat on the bottom of the sink, looking blankly up at her mother through the distorting ripples. A chain of bubbled air escaped her as her eyes glossed over. The ends of Loretta's hair hung into the sink, her body hunching over to get a closer look. Color drained from the infant's face. Her rosy cheeks became pallid and lifeless. Her pupils dilated, making her eyes like two black marbles.

"What the hell is going on?"

Loretta's head snapped towards the bathroom doorway as she heard Freddy's voice. He stood in the hall, glaring at her. "Keep the noise down, alright? I'm trying to read the paper."

As he walked away, she turned back to the sink. Katherine was sitting upright, still screaming. Loretta snatched up a fresh washcloth, and wet it before wiping the soap out of her baby's eye.

She was disgusted with herself. With her thoughts.

After rinsing the baby clean and lifting her from the sink, she patted her dry.

"It's okay, Katherine." she hushed her.

She fastened on the new diaper and held the sobbing infant against her breast.

" _Shhh, shhh…_ "

xxxxxxxxxx

 **1966**

Potted flowers lined the windowsill, with the blue gingham curtains drawn to the sides of the glass pane, and tied with blue bows. A wide silver spoon cut into the wad of yellow dough sitting at the bottom of a ceramic bowl, and scooped out a small chunk filled with chocolate chips. Holding it over the greased cookie sheet, Loretta tapped the metal handle until the sticky ball dropped in line with the others.

When it was full, she opened the oven door and slid it onto the burning rack inside. She set the notch on her egg timer for eight minutes, placing the ticking, plastic hen on the counter.

It wasn't long before the warm, sweet scent filled the room. The timer rang, and Loretta laid the spoon beside the newly filled cookie sheet. She took out the hot batch and set it over two burners on the stove range.

She heard the television switch off, and the pitter-patter of little feet rushed in from the living room.

"Mommy, are they done yet?" Katherine asked, holding the edge of the counter with an excited bounce. Her light brown ponytail swung behind her.

Loretta began scraping them off the sheet and depositing them two at a time on the white plate beside them.

"Yes, but you'll have to wait until after dinner, or you won't have any room in your stomach for the scallop potatoes." she said.

"Yuck," Katherine spat, her nose wrinkling, "I hate potatoes."

"Well, you're not getting any cookies until you eat it. _And_ the roast beef." she said as she finished emptying the tray.

With a furious pout, Katherine lunged past her mother and stole a cookie from the plate. She crammed it into her mouth, chewing it up.

" _Katherine_ ," Loretta barked as she grabbed the child's arm and smacked the back of her thigh, "I said _no_. Now you aren't getting any of them tonight."

Tears gathered on the rims of her daughter's eyes. She threw her head back and started crying and screaming, before running out of the room.

With a defeated sigh, Loretta placed the tray on top of the other dirty dishes. She'd wanted to do something nice for Katherine, make her a treat. All the girl had to do was eat her dinner. But could it ever be that simple? Of course not. There had to be a temper tantrum every time she didn't get her way.

A minute later, Katherine returned with her father in tow.

"What's the matter, baby girl?" Freddy asked as she pulled him through the kitchen arch by the wrist. His brows were knit with concern.

"Mommy won't let me have any cookies, and then she hurt my leg." the child said, sniffling.

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'hurt your leg'?"

"Right _here_." she whined as she pointed to the spot. "It stings, daddy."

Freddy lifted the hem of her dress to find a slim red hand print on her skin.

"Fred, she was being disobedient. I told her-"

" _Shut up_." he snarled so viciously that even Katherine flinched. Noticing her unease, he drew a breath to calm himself. He didn't want to scare his little girl.

Loretta took an involuntary step back when he came toward her. He stood close, making her tilt her face up to see him. The left side of his mouth was twitching with barely concealed rage. He didn't have to tell her what was going to happen after Katherine fell asleep that night. She knew.

"Take a seat, princess." he called over his shoulder without breaking eye contact with Loretta.

Katherine scrambled onto the chair next to her, and Freddy left his wife to get the plate of cookies off the counter. He put it on the table in front of her.

"You have as many as you want, okay sweetheart?" he told her as he patted her head.

With her nose still red and puffy from sobbing, she smiled and brought one of the warm, soft cookies to her mouth. When that one was swallowed, she started on the next.

"Take it easy, baby girl." he laughed. Then he turned to Loretta, and the humor vanished. "Get her a glass of milk."

Loretta moved to the lime green refrigerator and pulled the handle on the rattling door, taking out a tall, blue and white carton. She popped open the cardboard spout and filled a clean cup from the dish strainer.

Katherine remained bent over the plate of cookies, pounding them down like it was her job. She didn't even stop for a second when Loretta placed the milk down for her.

She could sense that they didn't want her there, so she went out into the living room to fold the pile of laundry on the couch.

"Daddy?" she could hear her daughter's voice through the wall.

"Yeah, Kat?"

"Why can't mommy be nice like you?"

Not wanting to listen to the rest of their conversation, she dumped the clothes into a wicker basket and carried it up the stairs on her hip. She'd finish it in her bedroom, where it was quiet.

Lining up sleeves and hems, she folded each garment and placed it in its proper pile. Soon the basket was empty and overturned, and three stacks sat on the blankets. She carried the pile of colorful little dresses to Katherine's room, and sorted it out into her chest of drawers.

By the time she was done, Freddy had settled into the couch with Katherine under his arm. The lights were out in the living room, and the television screen threw a pale blue glow over them. Loretta saw them from the stairs.

She and Freddy used to watch the late night shows like that when they were dating. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but she could still remember leaning against the side of his warm chest.

All of that belonged to Katherine, now.

She passed in front of the coffee table, and disappeared into the kitchen to set out the plates and cutlery. A few minutes later, she called through the archway.

"Dinner's ready."

The old springs beneath the sofa cushions squeaked as Freddy pushed himself up. He stretched and rolled his shoulders, bending out a crick in his neck.

"Come on, Kat." he said while he patted his daughter's scrawny leg. He noticed that her face was a little paler than usual when she looked up at him.

"I'm full. Can I stay here?"

"Alright, but just this one time." he said with a huff, "I don't want you withering away on me."

She giggled. "I won't."

"Do you want me to put on some cartoons for you?" he asked, motioning towards the screen that was still playing the evening news. The headline at the bottom read, "Body of Missing Child Found", with the details scrolling beneath it in smaller text. To the right of the plastic-haired anchorman was a picture of a smiling, six year old girl with short blonde curls, and a white lace bow on her head. Her new front tooth had only grown in halfway.

"No thanks." Katherine said, "I want to watch what you watch, daddy."

He smirked as he headed for the kitchen, but again, his expression went cold when he saw Loretta cutting up her beef. The knife and fork occasionally tapped the plate. He sat across from her, and began doing the same with the meal she'd set out. But his knife scraped the ceramic surface with far more pressure than necessary. Loretta felt her stomach flip with every screech he made. When he brought the meat to his mouth, he ground it between his molars like it had no flavor.

She never looked up through the entire dinner, feeling his eyes on her.

Then his chair slid back, and he walked away. The empty plate he left behind was covered in scratches, with bits of spat-out fat scattered over its ruined finish. She cleaned it off into the trash can, and brought it to the sink. After massaging the hot water and soap into her yellow sponge, she began scrubbing the dish. The texture wasn't smooth anymore. It was rough and marred. But even in its miserable state, it was still able to catch her reflection after she rinsed it.

"Mommy?" Katherine said from behind her. Her voice was small and sluggish. "My stomach hurts."

Loretta put the clean plate into the first slot on the dish strainer to dry, and started soaping up the next one.

"I think I need some medicine." her daughter continued, sounding like she was about to vomit.

After a few moments, Katherine asked again, "Mommy?"

But Loretta was unresponsive. She continued washing the dishes as if she were the only person in the room.

xxxxxxxxxx

Brittle, autumn leaves coated the front lawns on Elm Street, rustling and spiraling up into the air with the cold wind. Some properties had raked-up mounds of leafy debris dotted across the combed, dying grass. Katherine studied a red cardinal hopping through the barren, scraggly branches of the maple tree in their neighbor's yard. It flew away as she was trotting past the twin white pillars that supported the arched roof over the front door.

"Wait!" she shouted, running out to the parked red truck. Freddy leaned his back on the driver's side door, boots crossed. He tapped off the ashes from the lit end of his afternoon cigarette, and grinned as he saw her approaching. Her pigtails lashed back and forth over her ears.

"What's the emergency, sweetheart?" he asked.

She ran into him with all the force of her puny body, locking her arms around his lower waist and squishing her face into his stomach.

He barely understood her muffled whine. "You can't go to work without saying goodbye."

"I'm not leaving yet. Not until I finish my smoke." he chuckled.

Craning her head all the way back, she peered up at the strange, white stick between his lips, with the grey cloud curling from the end.

"Why do you always eat those, daddy?" she asked as she cocked her head to the side.

"These aren't food, baby girl," he said with a hint of amusement, "You only breathe in the stuff inside them. See?"

He demonstrated, pinching it straight and inhaling. Then he blew the smoke up toward the sky.

"Can I breathe one in?" Katherine beamed, a look of wonder in her eyes. "Please?"

"Sorry, sweetheart, but they're not for little kids."

She pouted as he rubbed out the burning tip on his boot, and opened the door. Before he climbed in, Katherine stopped him.

"Will you be home soon?" she asked.

"No, honey. I'm working late, tonight."

He pet her head and backed the truck out of the driveway. Katherine waited until it disappeared around a corner before she scampered inside.

xxxxxxxxxx

Baby dolls of varying sizes and stages of wear were strewn across the bedroom floor, with their miniature dresses and hair ribbons littered between them. A small toy shopping cart had been knocked on its side. The painted, plastic foods were spilled out in front of it. Surrounded by the mess, Katherine sat Indian-style in a circle she'd cleared for herself. Her eyes were glazed with boredom as she hopped a teddy bear along to no particular destination.

Her dad hadn't been joking when he said he'd be home late. It was already dark outside, so there was no chance that he could take her out on her tricycle when he got back.

She perked up as headlights flashed over the drapes, accompanied by the familiar sound of crunched gravel. Without bothering to check at the window, she threw aside her toy and bounded down the hallway toward the stairs, darting past the bathroom doorway.

At the sink mirror, Loretta held a tube of lipstick poised on her upper lip as the yellow dress and pigtails went by in a blur. She drew it over her cupid's bow, plumping her lips with the deep red pigment before smacking them together. She felt like a fool for still trying to get his attention. Just one glance, one smile on their anniversary. She was starving for even the simplest gesture.

Downstairs, Katherine was bouncing with anticipation by the door. She squealed when it opened, clinging onto Freddy's legs.

"Daddy's home!" she announced, more to herself than anyone else.

Crouching to her level, he reached into his back pocket with a playful grin.

"And I brought you a surprise." he added. He placed a box of Stallion candy cigarettes in her outstretched hand, and she stared down at the bold, red and white design. Two black horses were posed in mid-gallop beneath the brand name. It rattled when she shook it, and she dug her finger under the tab to pull it open. Long, white sugar sticks were packed inside.

"Thank you!" she squealed, hanging around his neck, "Can I have one now?"

"Sure, come outside." he said.

They went onto the doorstep, each tapping out a cigarette from their own pack, and holding it between their lips. Freddy rummaged through his pocket for a silver lighter, and the tiny flame grew out the top with a click.

"This is hard to do, daddy." Katherine said through the side of her mouth.

He quirked an eyebrow. "How's that?"

"It's hard not to chew it, because it's so yummy." she explained, "And it's melting, too."

"Eat it and take another."

He listened to her delighted hum as the stick grinded to powder on her tongue. With the next one between her fingers, she pretended to puff it the way Freddy was puffing his. When he exhaled, she blew out her breath to form a steam imitation of his thick, grey billows.

She watched his every move, and he knew it.

Loretta heard the laughter as she came down the stairs, her hair now brushed and pinned back on both sides. She peered through the window, and saw them under the doorstep light. They were facing one another, leaning on opposite columns. Katherine mirrored each drag her father took of his cigarette with her own candy replica. It was sick. Why was he teaching their daughter such a disgusting habit? As she debated whether or not to intervene, he dropped his smoke and crushed it under his boot toe. He came inside with Katherine following at his heels like a puppy.

Backing away from the windowpane, she found herself in their path as they headed to the kitchen.

"Fred," Loretta began, unsure if she should continue, "I don't think we should be letting Katherine pretend to smo-"

Her bobby pins came loose as he swatted the back of her head in passing, not missing a step along the way. It snapped forward as hair lashed her cheeks. She didn't raise it, or say another word.

"Do you want to go out for some ice cream, Kat?" he said from the kitchen as he shut a cabinet.

Katherine gasped. " _Really_?"

"Yes, really." he chuckled, "Go get your shoes on."

"Can I have sprinkles on my cone, too?"

"Whatever you want, princess."

They were gone by the time she looked up. She walked to the counter, taking the nearest dish towel to dunk it in an abandoned cup of water.

He'd probably forgotten what day it was. Or he didn't care.

She wiped off her lipstick, which smeared on the blue towel. What a stupid thing to bother with. He hadn't even noticed. She was an idiot for thinking that he'd ever look at her the way he used to, just because she put on some makeup. Two-dollar whores did the same thing every day, and it didn't earn them any love. So why did she think she'd be any different?

She lifted the lid off the ceramic tea jar and fished her hand inside, pulling out a small piece of crumpled, yellow paper. It had been wadded into a ball many times throughout the years, but she couldn't make herself throw it away.

She took the phone off the hook, hearing the quiet dial tone as she read the faded telephone number.

But they wouldn't want her. Not anymore.

She hung it back up, and the tone went dead.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **1967**

The cardboard flaps fell closed, concealing the stack of old, water-damaged novels. Loretta slid it across the basement floor into the tangle of junk they never used. It left a clean trail through the dust and dirt, blending in with the other boxes.

A thin strip of sunlight came through the gap between the closed cellar doors. She heard Katherine giggle out in the backyard, still playing tag with Freddy.

As Loretta walked back in the direction of the stairs, something stopped her. The heavy padlock that kept his room sealed off was hanging closed on the latch. Same as yesterday, and the day before. Nothing was different about it, but it held her attention like a vice grip.

She hated that door. Every day, it was waiting here to remind her that she wasn't welcomed. Not inside his room, or in his house, or in his family.

Behind her was a heap of broken cinder blocks from the power plant. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but she bent to pick up a corner piece. The edges were jagged, digging into her hand as she squeezed it. She smashed it down against the lock. It swung on the latch, showing more dents and scratches with each blow. She raised the bludgeon above her head, and hammered the fixture with all her strength. And she didn't stop until it broke open.

The block fell by her feet, rolling to a flat side. Cement granules were embedded in her raw fingertips, with specks of blood trapped beneath her skin. She reached toward the door, fingers curling with hesitation before touching the cold metal. Without giving herself time to change her mind, she slipped the lock off, and flicked back the latch.

The door creaked open.

For a while, she didn't move as she stared into the room. The off-beat pounding in her chest grew louder.

Newspaper clippings dotted the walls, with a concentrated cluster of them pinned up over a wooden worktable and bench. Headlines screamed out rape and murder from each article, and the children in the photos were the same faces that had been plastered all over town. They were the little ones that never came home. The victims of the Springwood Slasher.

A tall shelf housed an arsenal of blood stained weapons. Rows of gloves with grotesque modifications sat on the highest level, raised above the common knives and saws. Some had razors protruding from steel plates on each finger, or spikes jutting up from the knuckles. One was fitted with fish hooks, and the sight of it made her stomach churn.

This was who her husband was.

She glanced back around the door frame, first at the cellar doors, then the staircase. The entire Sheriff's department could be here in minutes. No one else would die. All she had to do was make the call, but her feet remained frozen in place.

It was wrong. It was selfish. But she didn't want to be Ms. Loretta Johnson again, all by herself. She couldn't watch them close handcuffs on his wrists, and shove the back of his head down into a police cruiser.

What he'd done to those children and to her didn't matter. She loved him too much to betray him.

With a sick curiosity, she reached inside the doorframe to feel for a light switch. Instead, she hit something smooth and cold. The whole stack of jars toppled over, crashing in front of her. Putrid juices splashed onto her feet. Mixed with the transparent shards of glass, were pickled fingers, ears, genitals, and other tiny body parts. Stringy, red tendons trailed behind a clouded eyeball.

She screamed, regretting it before she had even finished. The laughter in the yard ceased.

Loretta rushed to throw open the cellar doors. They slammed flat onto the grass, letting sunlight pour over the concrete steps as she climbed out.

Freddy came toward her, his face darkening with hatred, and it was then that she knew she'd made the wrong choice. But in the end, there was no one else to blame.

She'd seen the smoke.

She should have known what came with it.

 **THE END**

* * *

 **A/N: I had a blast writing this story, and getting to know Loretta. I hope you liked it. If you did, I'd be really happy if you'd leave a review. Thanks so much to all my readers, though- those that reviewed and those that did not.  
**

 **I thought it would be interesting to challenge the idea that Loretta just _happened_ to stumble upon the unlocked door. And honestly, every character in EVERY story should have a scene where they get to bludgeon something. :)**

 **If you're looking for your next read, check out "I Won't Tell" by Darkness Takes Over. I've recommended her stories before, but I wanted to do it again for this specific one because it begins exactly where this story ends. Then it takes Freddy and Kat down a very dark, non-canonical path. It's tons of fun! (I should note for you that she writes Katherine 's character somewhat differently. She isn't a spoiled brat in Darkness's story. I promise.)  
**

 **Anyway, here's the "(Un)official Soundtrack" that I mentioned before. I'll have links to all the underlined songs in my profile for the next few weeks. I chose the ones with the best sound quality, and not all of them have lyrics in the video. If you want the lyrics, you may have to look them up online.  
**

 **Chapter 1: Lana Del Rey - Prom Song (Gone Wrong) *This really captures the innocent, 1950's dating scene. **

**Chapter 2: The Black Keys - Weight of Love**

 **Chapter 3: The Beatles - Run For Your Life  
**

 **Chapter 4: Erik Satie - Gymnopedie No. 1  *The scene where Loretta's lying in bed at night, and watching the clouds before she runs away makes me think of this song. It's in pretty stark contrast to the rest of the chapter, but it stuck out to me and I couldn't ignore it.  
**

 **Chapter 5: The Misfits - Scream   
**

**Chapter 6: The Fray - Heaven Forbid **

**FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: I DON'T OWN STALLION CANDY CIGARETTES.**


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